The Requiem of Amelia Curtis
by blame it on the government
Summary: Only read this if you're willing and ready to cry.
1. Chapter 1

**I would like to thank you for selecting this story to read. If the intro bores you, please feel free to skip straight to the part about the Original Characters. Please note, however, that I mention quite a few important incidents that will play a role late in the story. With that being said, please enjoy.**

Mia woke with a sense of excitement and nervousness clenched in her chest. For over a year, she had been waiting for this moment to come. And today, well, today was _the _day. Outside her window, the horizon glowed pink, the sunrise just moments away. She tossed the blankets aside, standing up as the wooden floor boards creaked under her bare feet. Usually, she woke an hour earlier to feed the animals and milk the cows, but Uncle Paul had excused her of her morning duties at the request of Aunt Margaret.

Breakfast was served at 6:30 sharp. With that fact in mind, Mia began to dress herself as quickly and carefully as she could. The morning before, she had laid out her church dress, the blue one with the ruffles at the bottom, white socks with the lace at the top, and a pair of white shoes. She carefully considered the garments as she sat down at her vanity. With a skillful hand, she quickly unraveled her long, reddish brown hair from the rollers, choosing a blue ribbon to tie back her loose curls. She then quickly dressed. For a moment, she admired herself in the mirror. Her hair, she thought, was pretty enough and so was her face. But in the end, she considered herself as only a short, very skinny, flat chested girl of twelve.

She walked to the door, scanning the room where she had lived for over a year. It was barren now, all her wordly possessions contained in two suitcases at the foot of her bed. She grabbed her luggage, struggling with the heavy objects down the stairs.

"Ah, Amelia," Aunt Margaret greeted the girl as she walked from the staircase into the kitchen. "Put those down and have some breakfast. Hurry, now. We have to leave soon."

Mia nodded, joining her Uncle Paul at the breakfast table. Usually, grits or oatmeal was served with honey and dried raspberries. But today on the table, a small feast laid; sausages, bacon, eggs, freshly made chocolate chip muffins, and homemade bread, toasted and smeared with real butter.

All of a sudden, Mia lost her appetite. Anxiety obscured excitement. Around her, Aunt Margaret and Uncle Paul ate breakfast with gusto while all Mia stirred around her scrambled eggs. At home, she ate them with grape jelly, but Aunt Margaret, the prude, would not allow "that behavior."

"Aren't you hungry, Amelia?" Aunt Margaret asked as she took her place at the table. Mia shook her head. She felt bad denying the food in front of her; it was obvious that Aunt Margaret spent a lot of time on the meal, which meant a lot considering the old woman didn't spend a lot on anything these days.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Margaret," Mia said softly. "I'm just feeling a bit queasy."

"Do you want to stay home?" Aunt Margaret asked. "You don't have to go, you know. You wouldn't be hurting anybody's feelings. I could just phone your brothers and let them know."

Mia shook her head with vehemence.

"No," she said forcefully. "I want to go."

"As you wish," Aunt Margaret replied softly.

Last July, Margaret's niece and nephew-in-law passed away, leaving their four children orphans. The oldest child stepped up and offered to look after all of them. Margaret wouldn't have it, though. She offered to take the two youngest, of whom she considered the best and the brightest of the family. The older of the two, a boy of thirteen, adamantly refused to leave his brothers. In fact, the young girl, Amelia, then just a little thing of eleven, was more than reluctant to leave. But Margaret insisted, stating that a young lady couldn't possibly be rasied properly by a bunch of boys. The eldest brother agreed, handing his little sister of to their great aunt. Aunt Maragaret, who never had children, absolutely loved the girl. Things had gone just fine until about four months ago, when Amelia became listless and so thin, Margaret thought she would be carried away by the wind if she was reduced any more. More than concerned, she took the child to the doctor, who said absolutely nothing was wrong with her either than the fact that she physically and painfully missed her brothers. Though it pained her, Margaret had no choice but to send the child back to her family in Tulsa.

"Are you sure you're not hungry, girl?" Uncle Paul growled to Amelia. "It's a long way to Tulsa."

Paul had never liked children, which was why he and Margaret never had any. He was more than glad to send the child back where she came from. He couldn't wait to have one less mouth to feed.

"Well, if you're not going to eat, we might as well leave." Paul stood up, throwing his napkin down on his now empty plate. "Don't want you to be late now, do we?"

Uncle Paul threw Mia's luggage into the bed of his rusty, old green Dodge. Margaret took her seat to the right, Paul in the driver's seat in the left with Mia squeezed in the middle between the two. In her left hand, she clutched the brown paper bag filled with potato chips, a chocolate chip cookie, a ham sandwich and an apple. In her other, she held the little purse filled with dimes to buy cokes and and pay for pay phones just in case.

In It was an hour drive to the Greyhound stating in Dallas and the three sat in the roaring thunder of the car engine, each contemplating his or her own thoughts wordlessly. Finally, the pulled besides the large bus, already packed full of people, departure time only moments away. Aunt Margaret took Mia by the hand to the bus while Paul grabbed the luggage from the back of the truck.

"Excuse me," Margaret said, snapping her fingers to get the bus driver's attention. "This is my niece, Amelia. She's traveling for the first time by herself today. Could you watch out for her, please?"

The bus driver, a thin older man, gave Mia a smile revealing his crooked teeth.

"Sure thing, Ma'am," he said to Margaret. He looked to Mia and said, "Come on, sweetie. You're the only one we're waiting on, I believe."

Paul handed Mia her things as Margaret shoved her bony arms around Mia's neck, giving her a strong hug.

"Please write," Margaret whispered. "I love you so much and we'll miss you."

With one forlorn glance to her Aunt and Uncle, Mia boarded the bus. There was only one open seat near the middle of the bus. Next to it, occupying the window seat, sat a man. He looked nice, clean shaven, clad in a pair of black trousers, a white button down shirt, a red tie, and a gray vest. He was young, perhaps three or four years older than her eldest brother. And, Mia decided, he was very handsome, brown hair combed neatly with a few strands making their way onto his forehead.

The girl awkwardly stumbled down the narrow aisle to the empty seat. She tried to place her own luggage in the overhead racks, but she was too short. To her pleasure, the young man stood up to help her.

"Allow me," he said pleasantly. He took the suitcases, expertly stowing them before sliding back into his seat. Mia slid in after him as the bus driver started the engine and began to pull onto the street.

"Hello," the man said to Mia once they both were settled. "How are you today?"

"I'm fine," Mia replied, blushing as the man spoke to her. "How are you?"

"Why, I'm fantastic. Were those your grandparents who brought you to the station?"

"No." Mia shook her head. "They're my great aunt and uncle."

"Well, I heard that this is your very first time traveling by yourself. I have a hard time believing that."

"Why?"

"Because you just seemed so very grown-up. How old are you anyway, twenty-two?" The man smiled as he teased Mia.

"No!" Mia giggled. "I'm twelve. I had my birthday last week."

"You did! Well, happy birthday, then." He paused for a moment before speaking again. "My name's Gregory. What's yours?"

"Mia."

They shook hands. Mia thought it was going to be a very pleasant six hour drive from Dallas to Tulsa.

Sodapop Curtis sat in his truck, waiting alone at the desolate Greyhound station. It was a quarter after two in the afternoon, and in any moment, a bus was going to pull up with his younger sister in it. He couldn't believe Mia was coming home. The last time he had seen her, it was last July, over a year ago right after his parents died. He remembered how his great aunt, Margaret, had insisted that she take Mia back home with her. She wanted to take Pony, too, but Darry would not allow that. He had petitioned all he could to keep Mia home, but in the end, Margaret won. His last memory of Mia was of her sobbing uncontrollably, one hand clutching Pony, the other Soda. Darry had clutched Mia to his chest, cradling her, before painfully handing her over to Margaret. They didn't call very much afer she had left; long distant calls were too expensive. And Mia's letters became so short and sporadic, after only a few months, they stopped coming at all.

Soda remembered last week when Darry received a rare call from Margaret. His eyes had lit up as he talked and as soon as he hung up, he excitedly regarded his brothers.

"Mia's coming home," he had barely breathed, excitement flushing his face.

In the past week, the brothers had cleaned endlessly, converting Soda's vacant room back into Mia's, stocking the kitchen with food. And then, yesterday, Darry had gathered Soda, Pony, Steve and Two-Bit into the living room, looking them all into the eye with a serious expression.

"Look, guys," he had said. "Mia's coming home tomorrow, which means that we all have to act like gentlemen. I've created some new rules. Rule one, we must all stayed fully clothed at all time. No lounging around in boxer shorts or without a shirt one. Rule two, after nine in the evening, it's quiet time. No rough housing or loud noises. Rule three, no profanities or any inappropriateness at all. Rule four, just be civil. Okay?"

A loud noise woke Soda from his thought. A large bus came creeping down the street, pulling into the dusty station. It came to a screeching halt and the door flew open. A few moments later, people began to pile out. All of a sudden, Soda became apprehensive. What if Mia missed her bus? What if something happened to her? With wobbly legs, he got out of the truck craning his neck to see. Then, he saw her, carrying two large suitcases. She was a lot thinner than he remembered her, but not much taller. She looked prettier, different, with her long hair curled rather than plaited. It was the same way their mother used to wear her hair.

Soda rushed to meet his littler sister. She spotted him walking. Immediately, she dropped her things, running with all her might to the teenager in the distance. She threw herself into his arms, and Soda hugged back, stroking her hair as she began weeping into his plaid shirt.

"You don't know how much I missed you," Mia muttered into his chest, her words muffled.

"Gosh, I missed you too," he replied. He kissed the top of head and hugged back as hard as he dared without crushing her.

After several long moments, the two pulled apart. Mia regarded her older brother. He seemed stronger, his muscles more defined. He seemed taller too, and... older, more tired.

"I should have never left," Mia said as she shook her head. Soda picked up the two bags and directed her to the truck.

"Why do you say that?"

"I just missed you guys. All of you. Even the gang."

Soda was silent for a moment before speaking again.  
"Mia... do you know... I mean, did someone tell you... about... well, about how happened?" Soda stumbled over his words.

"Yes," Mia replied. "Darry typed up a copy of Pony's English paper."

"So you know?"

"Yes."

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know." She sighed heavily as she sat down in the truck. Soda started the engine and began to drive. "I knew Johnny and I knew Dallas, but not like you guys knew them. I'm sorry they're gone, but..." She picked at the hem of her dress for a moment. "I do have one question, though."

"Yes?"

"How come Pony didn't mention me?"

Soda thought about the question long and hard before speaking.

"I don't know," he replied uneasily. "I thought about that too. I think it's becase... I think that was his way of protecting you."

"Of protecting me?"

"Yes." He nodded thoughtfully. "You see, his essay was all about the bad stuff in the world. And if you didn't exist in the bad stuff, that means you only exist in the good stuff. Does that make sense?"

"I guess." She shrugged wordlessly and looked out the window. The world of her childhood began to roll past her: the public pool, a movie house, the public library, the drug store, the five-and-dime. She felt comfortable, the most comfortable she had felt since her parents died. In Texas, she lived in a small, rural town. Poverty was more widespread than wealth. Even though her family wasn't very well off, they did better than more than the half of the people, who lived in shacks on a spot of land, cutting wood or working on someone else's farm to earn a living.

"Here we are!" Soda cried cheerfully as they pulled in front of the house. Mia had forgotten how sorry the neighborhood they live in looked. Most of the houses were in disrepair, the yards overgrown with weeds, chain link fences rusting in the summer air.

But who cared about looks? Gosh, she was _home. _

She let Soda attend to her bags as she ran to the door. It was open, as usual. She walked in and smelled the deep, rich smell of home. The rich scent of chocolate cake and cigarette smoke filled her nose. But there was something missing in the mix. She thought about it for a moment before she realized what it was: the smell of her father's aftershave. Before she knew it, tears welled up in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Soda set the bags down, looking towards his sister with concern.

"This," she sobbed, "is the first time I've been home since they died. It just doesn't seem right without them."

Soda didn't have to ask what she meant; he already knew. He wrapped her in another hug, and they both wept with abandon.

Twenty minutes later, Mia sat in her old room, the room she had known since childhood. Soda had claimed it for only a small time before he moved back in with Pony. She considered the walls, a pale yellow color, the curtains, a pretty white, the bedspread, the color of snow with bows the color of dandelions. Life with Aunt Margaret and Uncle Paul had not been bad. She received all the things she needed, all the food, all the clothes, all the school supplies. But Uncle Paul, like the old adage, believed that sparring the rod would spoil the child. Uncle Paul owned a small farm, and Mia had been expected every day to raise at 4:30 in the morning to do her chores. Doing them wrong or in an untimely fashion or even wearing the wrong clothes would result in what Uncle Paul liked to call "discipline." This happened about one out of every two times. Other transgressions included making too much noise, making a "B" on a report card, wasting food, etc, etc. Honestly, the list went on and on.

On the other hand, Margaret, if not somewhat cold and strict at times, was an ally in the farmhouse. In an earlier life, she had been a concert pianist, and she and Mia had spent hours at a time in front of the piano. Margaret had been a very patient teacher, starting Mia with the most basic scales and arpeggios, slowly building until they got to Bach, Beethoven, Motzart, Tchaikovsky. Mia became so good that she even played the piano for her school's annual musical.

Through the walls, Mia heard the front door open and then close. She abandoned her room, running into the living room. There, Ponyboy stood. Soda had explained to her earlier that Pony had taken a job tutoring some stupid rich kid in math for five dollars an hour. That was where he had been earlier. But now he was home.

They stood for a moment looking at each other before Pony rushed up to her, gathering her in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles gently over her perfect hair. She feigned anger before they embraced, laughing in happiness and exaltion before letting go.

"Nice to see you, kid," Pony laughed. "It's been way too long."

Mia regarded Ponyboy. He was taller by a good three or four inches, his voice deeper, his body more sinewy, thinner. There was a look in his eyes, a look that hadn't been there before, something that told the world that he had been to hell and back, a slightly dangerous look that commanded a sort of fear and respect.

Pony regarded Mia in much the same way. She was much, much thinner than when they last saw each other, which wasn't good, because she had only been a slight, little thing then. She now stood with her elbows and knees and wrists sticking sharply through her skin. She resembled a porcelain doll, delicate, fragile. But at the same time, her eyes held a hardened look that told the world she was no longer a child.

For a few hours, the three siblings talked of pleasantries, of school, of books, of life in general. They indolently cooked a meal, baked chicken, potatoes, homemade rolls. Darry worked late, and they hoped to have dinner on the table before he came home.

At half past six, they had just put down the last of the food when they heard the door open and then shut. Before anyone could move, Darry appeared in the kitchen doorway, work shirt unbuttoned to reveal a wife beater, skin shiny with sweat from late summer work. Before she had known she had even moved, Mia found herself in her eldest brother's arms. Darry did not cry often, but tears of joy streamed down his face.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, hugging her so hard her feet left the ground. "Please, don't leave us again."

"I won't," Mia promised, echoing Darry's soft timbre. "I won't."


	2. Chapter 2

The four siblings talked over a long dinner, indolent dinner. The eldest three were impressed by their sister's speech and intellect. A year had changed her; they all noticed it in her mannerisms, her speech, the way she delicately picked at her food instead of shoving forkfuls of food into her mouth, a habit she had picked up from her older brothers. The degree of change had been so much that they all breathed an inaudible sigh of relief when, over a large chocolate Soda had prepared earlier that day, Mia began to nod over her plate, rubbing her eyes with both hands in a very chidlike way. In this small action, the child that she still was shone through. Darry kindly recommended that she go to bed. Nodding, she disappeared into her bedroom.

When she had brushed her teeth and had been asleep for a while, the three brothers congregated in the living room, supposedly to watch TV. But the television remained dormant in the corner as the boys began to talk.

"She seems different," Soda said pensively as he chose his spot on the couch. Pony sat next to him while Darry reclined in his easy chair.

"Of course she's different," Darry replied rationally. "It's been a year. We probably seem different to her too."

"But she seems different in a bad way," Pony retorted as stretched out. "I mean, did you see how thin she looks?"

"Aunt Margaret explained it to me," Darry said thoughtfully. "I didn't want to tell you guys because I didn't want to worry you, but apparently Mia was kind of sick."

The two younger boys looked to their older brother with shock and hurt.

"What kind of sick," Soda asked, his throat thick, his voice husky.

"A few months ago, she started losing a lot of weight, couldn't hold anything down, that kind of thing. They took her to the doctor and they concluded she was perfectly healthy; she just missed us, her family."

"But they were treating her good, right?" Pony asked.

"Look," Darry started, "I'm not going to pretend that our Uncle Paul is a nice fellow, but I don't think he hurt her or anything. I mean, he believes in spanking children with a wooden rod, but nothing that would actually hurt anyone."

"How do you know?" Soda asked. "When was the last time you spent time with him?"

"When you were just a little baby, Soda, and before you were born, Pony, mom got really sick with pneumonia. Dad sent us to Aunt Margaret's house. We were there for a few weeks and Uncle Paul swatted my behind with a rod quite a few times. He probably did it when other parents wouldn't have. But that's just how he is.

"Besides," Darry continued, "she's here now and that's all that matters. She has turned into quite an intelligent and beautiful young lady and, I don't know about you guys, but I'm not ever letting her go again. Losing her to Aunt Margaret was almost as bad as losing mom and dad."

The two brothers nodded in agreement, remembering the three holes that were left when their parents had been killed.

"Ponyboy." Darry turned to his youngest brother. "Both me and Soda have to work all day tomorrow so I need you to take Mia to the junior high and get her registered for classes. School starts on Monday so do it first thing in the morning, you hear?"

"Yeah, Darry," Ponyboy nodded. They turned on the TV and settled into a comfortable silence.

Mia woke when she heard stirrings in the kitchen. Her bedside clock revealed that it was only slightly past five in the morning, but she was wide awake. She stole out of her room, self conscious for the first time in her life about the fact that she had rollers in her hair and wore a nightgown. She shook the thought off, though. These were her brothers, after all, not strangers.

"Mia, what are you doing up?" Darry asked when he spotted his sister. "You can go back to sleep. We're about to go to work, anyway."

"No, it's okay," Mia shrugged. "I'm up at this time every day normally."

"Goodmorning," Soda yelled sleepily. He had his head stuck in the refrigerator, digging around for something. "How about some breakfast?" He extracted the leftover chocolate cake, sitting it down on the counter as he dug for clean plates in the cupboard.

"Cake?" Mia asked. "For breakfast?"

"Yeah," Soda winked. "Why not?"

"Because, it's cake!" She said in feigned indignance.

"Well, if you don't want any, more for me!" Soda cut a huge slice for himself, setting it clumsily on a saucer. "Are you sure you don't want some?"

"I'm sure. Hey, Darry! Can I have some coffee?"

"Coffee?" Darry asked. "Since when did you drink coffee? Did Aunt Margaret let you drink it?"

"No. She said it would stunt my growth. But I read in a book it wasn't true. Can I have some? Please?"

"I guess," Darry shrugged. "But I'm telling you, you won't like it."

Mia watched as Darry took down a deep blue mug, filling it about an inch of the way up with bitter, dark liquid from the coffee pot on the stove.

"Here you go." He handed the mug to Mia, who stirred the liquid around, trying to read it.

"You're not going to find you're fortune in there," Soda teased.

Mia shrugged and brought the mug to her lips, blowing the steam off before letting a drop of the hot, rich liquid scorch her tongue. Through the painful heat, she could taste the rich roasted flavor as bitterness enveloped her tastebuds.

"What do you think?" Darry asked.

"Good," she replied pensively. "But I like my coffee a bit stronger than this."

They all shared a brief laugh before the urgency of the day caught a hold of them. Soda scarfed his cake down and Darry finished the toast he had been munching on before they each gave Mia a peck on the cheek and headed for the door.

"Pony should wake up in an hour or two," Darry said before he left. "Get him to make you some breakfast. Then the two of you are going to go to the junior high to register for classes. Don't let him forget. It's important ya'll go today because classes begin on Monday, okay?"

"All right, Darry. Love you."

"Love you too, Mia. We'll be back before dinner."

With that, her two eldest brothers were gone, leaving her alone in the morning light to do whatever she pleased. Television didn't much interest her; Aunt Margaret and Uncle Paul didn't own a set. Usually when she was bored and didn't have chores to do, she either played piano or read a book. Since they didn't have the former, she settled on the latter, finding a copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_ nestled on a book shelf in the living room.

Ponyboy woke an hour later, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he walked into the kitchen. In the living room, he saw his little sister, dressed today in a pink dress, a white ribbon nestled in her perfectly groomed and curled hair. She sat on the sofa, her feet tucked underneath her as she thoughtfully read a book.

"Goodmorning," Ponyboy croaked, his voice froggy from sleep.

"Goodmorning," Mia replied pleasantly. "Darry said you'd make me breakfast."

"He did?" he grumbled as he searched for a glass for his chocolate milk. "Well, how would you like your eggs cooked?"

"Scrambled is fine," Mia replied, turning back to her book.

Ponyboy made six scrambled eggs, the same amount he would have made if it had been Soda, not Mia, eating with him. He realized his mistake when placed the plate, overflowing with food, in front of the small girl. Mia, however, did not bat an eye. After stirring copious quantities of grape jelly into her eggs, she dug in, eating with an abandon she had been too polite to do last night. They finished their meal at the same time, putting their forks down with a satisfying "clink" as the metal instruments hit the plate.

"I'll do the dishes," Mia offered, standing up as she began to collect the plates.

"No, don't!" Pony quickly stood as well. "I'll do them!"

"No, it's okay. I don't mind, really."

"But you can't," Pony countered. "You're a..." He drifted off, trying to find the right word.

"What?" Mia asked, snapping at her brother. "I'm not a guest. I live here, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Pony muttered, suddenly embarrassed.

"Look." Mia softened her tone. "Why don't I do the dishes while you get dressed? Then, we can go to the school and register me for class. Sound good?"

Ponyboy gave his sister a curt nod before disappering behind his bedroom door. As he pulled on a pair of jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, he was amazed by her assertiveness. She seemed so much like their mother, both physically and personality wise. Her gentle beauty, her quiet grace, but at the same time, she possessed a great intelligence, a fiery personality. After lacing up his canvas sneakers and running a wet comb through his hair, sans grease, he rejoined Mia in the kitchen, who was just finishing up the dishes, placing them in the drying rack as she wiped her hands on a rag.

"Ready?" she smiled.

Ponyboy nodded back and out they went. Once upon a time, things had been pretty scary outside their front door, but things had really calmed down. After last November, when three youths died in a relatively short amount of time, people stopped beating people up. They walked in campanionable silence for several minutes before Ponyboy awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Mia?" he said uneasily. "It is okay if you I ask you a question."

"You just did," Mia replied sardonically. "But go ahead. Ask another. It's not like you have a quota or anything." She flashed a smile to her brother, who forefully returned it.

"I was wondering," Pony muttered, thinking hard as he stared at his shoes. "I was just wondering if they treated you right in Texas. I mean, Uncle Paul didn't like beat you or anything, did he?"

"He spanked me, if that's what you mean," Mia replied. "I think I'm a little bit old to be treated like a little kid, but Uncle Paul believes that the only way to discipline a kid of any age is a swat to the behind."

"He didn't spank you hard enough to leave bruises, did he?"

"Well," Mia smiled, "I don't even weigh seventy pounds. Of course I'm going to bruise. A big fellow like Uncle Paul doesn't hit someone like me and not leave a bruise."

"How bad were these bruises?" Pony asked. The uneasiness spread in his stomach like acid, burning his insides until bile rose in his throat.

Mia looked down the street before gently lifting the hem of her skirt to reveal a series of greenish-yellowish bruises spread across the backside of her thighs.

"Does...does it hurt?" he whispered.

"Well, it doesn't feel good," she replied. "But he didn't spank me any harder than he would have spanked you or Soda or even Darry. Uncle Paul is just old fashioned." She smiled again at Ponyboy, but she could tell he was not amused.

"Oh, come on!" Mia cajoled. "I'm here now. That's all that matters. Everything else is in the past, right?"

"Yeah," Pony muttered, not convinced.

They walked on in silence for a few more minutes before Mia spoke, her voice, like Pony's, uneasy.

"Since you asked me a question," Mia started, "can I ask you one?"

"Of course. Go ahead." Pony turned to Mia, his smile genuine.

"Well, Darry typed up a copy of your English essay, the about Johnny and Dallas and how you ran away and became a fugitive." She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "And I was just wondering why you didn't mention me."

Mia was more than curious to hear the answer to this question. She had been deeply hurt when she read the essay. Pony had totally excluded her from his life, even referring to himself as the "baby of the family."

"Well," Pony chose his words carefully, trying to speak as delicately as he could. "Mia, there's something you should know before you go to school on Monday."

He paused here, unsure of how to continue. How could he tell her about the rumors that had spread around the community like wild fire? After his parents died and Mia went away, people began saying terrible things about her. They said she went crazy and and had to be comitted to an asylum. They said she killed herself. They even said she had actually killed her parents and had been sent away to cover up the murders. In short, Ponyboy was embarrassed about her and for her.

"What?" Mia asked.

"I want you to know that you can't listen to the other kids. They're going to be mean and they're going to say some rude things. But, Mia, you gotta understand, they're wrong. Okay?"

Mia nodded her head, unsure whether the words Pony spoke were comforting or forboding.

Just as Mia went to open her mouth to ask a question, they came upon the junior high, a stoic brick building, smaller than the high school, but larger than both the schools Mia had attended in Texas and Tulsa. With a gulp, they walked in.

They quickly located the main office, which was busy with teachers and students and secretaries with beehives, talking loudly into telephones and typing with long nails on black typewriters. Mia approached a secretary and cleared her throat.

"What can I do for you honey?" the secretary asked, looking up from her typewriter.

"I want to register for classes," Mia replied.

"All right." The secretary dug through her messy desk, finally handing Mia a form. "Just fill that out, sweetie, and someone will be right with you."

Mia took a clipboard and a pen and began filling out her personal information when she heard a familiar voice.

"Mia?" it said.

Mia looked up, surprised to find Gregory, the man she had sat next to on the bus just the day before.

"Gregory?" she exclaimed.

"That's Mr. Crane to you," he said sternly, but he gave her a wink to show that he was just kidding. "I didn't know you went to school here."

"I really don't. I'm registering for my classes right now."

"I just took a job here myself. You should sign up for my class."

"What do you teach?"

"Music. Can you sing?"

"No," Mia giggled. "I can't carry a tune in a wheelbarrow."

Gregory Crane laughed at Mia's trite joke.

"That's too bad. Say, can you play the piano?"

"Yes!" Mia's eyes lit up. "I even played the piano for my school's musical last year. And I was the pianist for the Johnson's wedding last April."

"Well, it turns out that I've been looking for piano player for the chorus and you sound more than qualified. I'll talk to the counselors and have you put in my class."

"Thank you, " Mia replied brightly. "Oh, I've forgotten my manners. Mr. Crane, this is my brother, Ponyboy." She indicated to her brother, who stood in a corner out of the way. "Pony, this is Mr. Crane. We sat next to each other on the bus yesterday."

Pony left his refuge long enough to shake Mr. Crane's hand. The boy was impressed by the man's intelligent speech, clean, professional appearance, and his friendliness to his little sister. Immediately, Pony liked him.

"Nice to meet you, Ponyboy," Mr. Crane smiled pleasantly. "Well, I'm off to a meeting. See you on Monday, Mia. I am most looking forward to having you in my class."

With that, Mr. Crane disappeared down a long hallway. School was something Mia had been dreading, but now, excitement bubbled inside her.

A half an hour later, Mia and Ponyboy started home, a schedule clenched in Mia's fist. She was taking the basic core subject, honors classes of course, plus chorus, home economics, and conversational French. Seventh grade, she decided quickly, was going to be a good year.

With the whole day spread out before them, Ponyboy decided to show Mia a good time. He had been tutoring a kid in math two hours a day, four days a week, for the entire summer. He had been saving most of his money, but he decided to spend a little bit on Mia now. After all, what was a few dollars compared to the hundreds he had saved?

They saw a movie, read magazines at the drugstore, ate hamburgers at the Dingo, checked books out at the library, and talked and walked, just enjoying each other's company. Mia held likenesses of each of her brothers. She had Darry's eyes and his ability to lead any crowd of people, Soda's grin and his humor, and Pony's hair and pensiveness. But she had something that was her own too, an ambition, a fundamental need to do well, a drive that pushed her in everything she did.

They wandered home about four in the afternoon, about an hour before the older boys's were expected home. Mia volunteered to cook dinner, pork chops, baked beans, and corn on the cob. Darry and Soda came home just in time to wash up before sitting at the table. Just like the night before, dinner was a lively affair. Halfway through the meal, though, Mia excused herself to use the restroom. Ponyboy used the time alone with his brothers to explain what he had seen under Mia's skirt.

"She had these huge bruises on her," Pony explained. "Didn't we tell you Uncle Paul was beating her?"

Darry looked towards Pony uneasily, but Soda looked angry and sick at the same time.

Mia came from the bathroom, resuming her spot at the table, where she resumed to eat her meal. She paused when she realized everyone was staring at her.

"What?" she asked. "Do I have sometime in my teeth?"

"Mia," Darry said as pleasantly as he could. "Could you show us what you showed Pony?"

"Ponyboy, you didn't!" Mia cried in indignation. "I didn't tell them because I knew they would make a big deal out of it. I didn't expect you to, though."

"Mia, we just would like to see," Soda explained.

"We're not making a big deal out of it. We just want to make sure you're all right, okay?"

"I'm not a child," she muttered as she stood up. Like with Pony, she lifted the hem of her dress to show her brothers the bruises of her thighs. Darry swore under his breath.

"Mia, that's kind of a big deal," Soda said, his voice thick with something unreadable. "How come you didn't tell us sooner?"

"Because," she replied as she dug her fork into her porkchop, "I knew you'd react like this. I just bruise easily, okay? Uncle Paul isn't some sort of evil child beater. He's just old fashioned. It's not like you could do anything about it anyway."

"Wanna bet?" Darry asked. He slashed his knife through the air. In a different setting, it would have been comical. But no one laughed.

"That wouldn't accomplish anything," Mia replied stiffly. "It's in the past now. Can we just forget it and move on?" She started to take a bite of beans, but her appetite left her. "I'm going to bed now. I'm really tired. Goodnight."

They all wanted to say something, but they couldn't find the words. Someone had hurt their sister. They hadn't been able to protect her. The thought ate itself in the pit of their stomachs until Ponyboy broke the silence.

"I'll wash the dishes," he said. No one objected as he cleared the table. Right then and there, they all made silent vows to themselves: no one was going to hurt anyone in their family ever again.


	3. Chapter 3

Mia stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. She wore her green dress, the one with the bow on the waist with a green ribbon in her hair. On her feet, she wore her usual white shoes with her usual white socks. The first day of school started in less than forty-five minutes, and frogs began to leap in her stomach. She adjusted her hair one last time, her curls framing her face in a most pleasing way, before walking into the kitchen. Ponyboy sat munching on oatmeal at the breakfast, dressed smartly in a button down shirt and a pair of freshly ironed jeans.

"Ready for the first day of tenth grade?" Mia asked brightly as she sat down. She scooped oatmeal into her bowl and began to nervously stir it around.

"More or less," Ponyboy shrugged. "How about you? Ready for your first day of seventh grade?"

"Oh, yes! More than you would ever know."

Darry and Soda, who stood around the table in their work clothes, smiled. In the days proceeding, Mia had filled them in on "Mr. Gregory Crane," Mia's friend and chorus teacher she had met on the bus. They were all really pleased that she had at least one ally. They knew how cruel school children could be at times and the fact that a person was watching out for her gave them all a piece of mind.

Mia quickly finished her breakfast, depositing her dirty bowl in the sink before running to her room to grab her little pink satchel, the same school bag she had been using since fourth grade. Already, her new notebooks and pencil box sat, snug, inside. She walked into the kitchen, extracting from the ice box a lunch she had packed the night before. She carefully slid the brown papered package into her bag before slinging the satchel over her shoulder.

"I'm ready," she announced. "Come on. I don't want to be late."

Her older brothers smiled at her eagerness. Together, they all went outside and piled into the truck. Mia sat squeezed between Ponyboy and Sodapop, the smell of soap mixing in with the strong scent of motor oil and gasoline. The car chugged along, reaching the high school first. Ponyboy opened the door.

"Learn something useful," Darry shouted over the engine as Ponyboy stepped out. "Love you. See tonight."

Ponyboy returned the sentiment, slamming the door shut as he joined the other kids congregating in the school yard. The junior high school was just a few streets down, and as Darry began to drive, Mia became more and more nervous. She knew most of the people she would be attending school with, but what kind of changes were there in the wake of her absence? What if her old friends didn't like her. She didn't have time to speculate farther, however, because Darry pulled up in front of the school.

"You're going to do great," Soda whispered into her ear as he gave her a hug. "Ponyboy's going to walk you home today. Wait for him after school."

Mia hugged him back, hopping out of the car as Darry yelled inaudible sentiments. With her satchel banging against her legs and her skirt fluttering around her knees, she walked into the schoolyard.

She searched for familiar faces. She found some, but before she could smile or raise her hand in greeting, the faces would disappear behind books or dissolve into a circle of girls. For a few minutes, she searched for a friend to talk to, but the people had been her friends a year ago forgot old alliances, choosing new alliances over old. By the time the bell rang signaling the students to go to class, Mia was highly disheartened. With her head held low, she walked stiffly to her first period class, honors English. She walked down the hallways and up a staircase until she finally found her classroom. She took a seat as close to the front as she could in spite of the glances her classmates threw at her.

The teacher stood in front of the class, smiling at her students as the bell rang. When everyone had take a seat, she began to speak.

"Hello, class," she said with a wide smile. She was an older teacher, perhaps in her fifties, her brown hair mixed with grey. On her plump, pleasant face she wore a pair of wire rimmed glasses. "My name is Mrs. Hoover. Allow me to cordially invite you to honors English. I'm going to take roll now. Please say 'here' when I call your name."

Mrs. Hoover worked her way through the A's and B's. When she got to Mia's name, she paused.

"Amelia Curtis," she said, sizing up the girl through her specs. "I think I had your older brothers. Darrel, Sodapop and Ponyboy, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," Mia replied brightly.

Mrs. Hoover smiled. She remembered each of the Curtis brothers distinctly. Each of them was special and different in his own way. Darrel was a jock, popular among both the gentlemen and the ladies. He had been a leader. Sodapop was a lady's man, a class clown. All the girls sighed when he walked by. And Ponyboy, he had been the dreamer. He was intelligent, not as popular as his older brothers, but just well liked. Quiet Amelia in front of her seemed to take after the youngest of the Curtis brothers, soft spoken and quiet.

"Well," Mrs. Hoover said with a smile, "it was a pleasure to teach your brothers and I can't wait to see what kind of charms you bring to the classroom." She smiled again before turning back to the roll. Somewhere, in the back of the classroom, other girls were shooting daggers at the back of Mia's head, resentful that she had received special attention.

The day passed in a fantastic, dreadful blur. As more and more teachers complimented her on her dress or her elder brothers or her knowledge of the ancient Incase, the more dreadful the other children acted towards her. She struggled through lunch, where she ate her lunch outside alone in the courtyard. Chorus was the last class of the time. By the time it rolled around, she was exhausted, both physically and mentally. She piped up, though, when she spotted Mr. Crane standing in front of the chorus room.

"Hello there, Mia," Mr. Crane greeted her with a wink. "How's my favorite student today?"

Mia blushed violently.

"I'm doing very well, Mr. Crane," she replied with a smile. "How are you?"

"Fantastic. Hey, you better take your seat. Wouldn't want to be late on the first day, woulda?" He winked again, touching Mia gently on the shoulder as she walked into the Chorus room. She found a seat near the front, her books balanced on her lap. The bell rang and Mr. Crane entered the room.

"Hello class," he said with a smile. Behind her, Mia could hear several girls sigh as they took in the sight of the young and extremely attractive teacher. "This is my first year teaching, so you'll have to excuse my inexperiences as I teacher.

"As a musician," Mr. Crane continued, "I have lots of experience. I've been playing piano since I was old enough to sit up. I played piano all throughout college and I was the pianist for the Dallas Symphony Orchestra for four years." He paused for a moment, searching for Mia's eye. When he found it, he gave her a secret smile. Mia inwardly blushed.

"Mr. Crane?" a voice near the back asked. "What happened to Mrs. Adams, the old chorus teacher?"

"She retired," Mr. Crane replied.

"Are we still going to have a musical production?" the voice asked.

"Yes!" Mr. Crane smiled wide. "In fact, I've already picked out the pianist." He looked to Mia. "Mia Curtis, would you like to give us a little concert? I already have the sheet music, if you feel up to reading it."

"Of course," Mia purred. She stood up, smoothing her skirt as she walked to the piano situated near the front of the room. Mr. Crane propped the music up for her and she began to look at. It wasn't incredibly difficult. Written in the key of C, she began to play the scale and then the arpeggiated scale before she began to play the music. It had been several days since she had last touched a piano. The smooth keys felt good under her hands, and she began to relax as she began to play the music written on the sheets. As she music poured from the piano, she could the glare of approval from Mr. Crane, the cold stares of envy from the rest of the class.

When she finished the piece, Mr. Crane placed a hand on the small of Mia's back, turning to the rest of the class.

"Wasn't that fantastic?" Mr. Crane asked. The class murmured in agreement. Mia was dismissed back to her seat and Mr. Crane continued on with the lesson. He talked about the musicial production, about auditions and costume desgin. When the bell rang, the class spilled from the room, but Mr. Crane stopped Mia from leaving by placing his hand on her shoulder.

"You didn't tell me you were that good," Mr. Crane said, placing both hands on her shoulder.

"Well, thank you. I don't like to brag." She blushed a brilliant scarlet.

"You know, you could probably get a scholarship with musicianship like that. With a little individualized attention, you could be professional quality in just a few years."

"You really think so?"

"Oh, I know so. In fact, it would be my absolute pleasure to give you private lessons. What do you say?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'll have to ask my older brother." In spite of her modesty, on the inside, she burned with pleasure at the compliment and the special attention.

"Think about it, okay? It would be a shame to waste a talent like yours."

"All right," she said before looking down at her feet uncomfortably. "Um, how much..."

"Oh, I wouldn't expect compensation!" Mr. Crane exclaimed, flabbergasted. "Now, ask your brother. I expect the answer to be yes." He went to turn away, but a thought struck him. He walked over to the piano, gathered up some papers and walked back. "Here's the music. Why don't you practice it tonight?"

"Well..." Mia flushed a deep shade of crimson. "I can't. I don't have a piano at home."

"No piano!" Mr. Crane was incredulous. "Well, no matter then. Take care, Mia. See you tomorrow."

With that, he left, and Mia went on her way.

She wandered outside to the courtyard where, after only looking for a few minutes, she found Ponyboy.

"Guess what? Guess what!" Mia shouted when she saw her older brother.

Ponyboy looked his sister up and down, not even trying to guess what could make her happy on the first day of school.

"What?" he asked, his voice dry and sardonic.

"Mr. Crane, he said that I was a fantastic piano player, almost professional good!" she paused for a moment to catch her breath, which had left her in her excitement. "He also said he want to give me private lessons."

"That's really good, Mia," Ponyboy said with a smile, but inwardly, he didn't feel very happy. Like his younger sister, Ponyboy had to deal with the curious stares of his peers all day long, teasing and tripping in the hallway. Unlike his sister, however, Pony wasn't welcomed warmly to every class he entered by the teacher. More than one glowered at him; Sodapop had dropped out in the tenth grade, and more than one teacher remembered that little fact.

The two talked as they walked home. Or, rather, Mia talked while Pony listened. She gave him a full account of her day, sans the mean things the other children did, or, rather, didn't do to her. Mostly, she talked of Mr. Crane.

"He's so handsome," Mia squealed. "And did you see his eyes? They're so blue! And you know what? He likes me best. He even called me his favorite student."

On a subconscious level, Ponyboy was aware that this was the kind of things little girls usually told their friends or their big sisters, not their teenage brothers. But he let Mia talk. When they arrived home, Ponyboy started to his room.

"Don't you want to watch TV or play outside or do something?" Mia asked before her brother retreated.

"Sorry, Mia," Ponyboy replied. "I've got homework in nearly every subject."

"On the first day?"

"When you're in high school, you'll understand."

Mia read and cooked to occupy her time. She highly enjoyed Soda's chocolate cake, but she could already tell no one got much variation. To mix things up a bit, she got out her mother's cook book and looked up a recipe for applie pie. A bowl of the fresh fruit sat on the table and she used three of them, carefully pealing then slicing the fruit. She mixed the dough and placed the apples in. Just as she set the pie in the oven, she could hear the front door open, then close.

"Soda?" she asked. There was no answer, only the heavy footsteps of someone she couldn't place. A person materialized in the doorway, and she breathed a sort of sigh of relief as she saw who it was.

"Long time, no see," said Two-Bit Mathews with a grin. He looked like an over sized toddler with too much grease in his hair.

"Two-Bit!" Mia cried and flew into his arms.

She had never really known Johnny too well because he was so quiet. And Dallas was so tough that Mrs. Curtis limited her daughter's exposure to the fellow. Two-Bit, on the other hand, was lively and gentle, traits he had picked up from experience with his own kid sister.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he teased as he hugged her back. "Hey, you ain't cookin' something are ya?"

"Yes sir, I am," she replied brightly. "An apple pie. But it won't be ready for a while, so don't get your hopes too high."

Two-Bit had stayed away for so long at the request of Darry. The eldest Curtis had wanted time for Mia to settle before she was bombarded.

"I never do about your cooking," Two-Bit replied smartly, raising one eyebrow. Mia smacked him with a dish towel.

"Why don't you go terrorize someone your own size?" she asked as she began to take things out of the cupboard for dinner.

"I can't, 'cause if I did, they'd beat me up."

Mia laughed as Ponyboy came out of his room.

"Oh, hey Two-Bit," he remarked as he opened the ice box, extracting the chocolate milk. He poured himself a glass, contemplating the coolness of the milk.

"Hey, Pony, what's shaking?"

"Not much, Two-Bit," Pony replied. He took his chocolate milk back into his room and slammed the door shut.

"What's his problem?" Two-Bit asked.

"I don't know," Mia shrugged. "He's sort of been acting like this since I got home. Must be hormones."

"Must be. Hey, do want to play cards?"

They passed the time together, waiting for Soda and Darry to get home. When they did, Pony came out. Two-Bit excused himself and the siblings sat down to eat Mia's newest creation, a casserole. They ate. Mia did the dishes while Soda and Darry rested after their long day of work. Mia read a book for a while, told her two eldest brothers about her day and took a bath. Clad in her flannel nightgown, she began to comb through her long, wet hair. That's when she heard it: the knock on the door.

"I wonder who that could be," she heard Darry mutter as she stepped out of the bathroom. "No one ever knocks."

It was a quarter past nine in the evening and all four siblings remembered what happened the last time somebody called announced and knocked on the door. That had been the night their parents died.

Soda, Pony and Mia stood in the living room, watching with bated breath as Darry opened the door. Darry saw him before anyone else did: the clean-looking man, young, dressed sharply, not like a soc, but more like a professional.

"Hello," said Mr. Gregory Crane. "I'm looking for the Curtis residence."

"Well, you found it," replied Darry. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes! I'm Amelia's music teacher, Gregory Crane." He stuck out his hand and Darry awkwardly shook it. "Are Mia's parents home?"

The air in the house took a quiet, stale shape and everybody waited for Darry to speak.

"I watch over my siblings," Darry said, his voice quiet. "I am their legal guardian. What do you need?"

"Well," Mr. Crane smiled. "Today Mia told me that she didn't have a piano at home. Such musicians need to practice every day. So, I took the liberty to deliver this."

Mr. Crane stepped aside to reveal a piano. It was just a little spinet, but Mia, who had stepped in front of her brothers, inhaled a sigh.

"We can't accept this," Darry replied, his voice caught in his throat.

"Oh, I insist. It's not worth much, anyway. Somebody was going to throw it away, but I took it home and fixed it up. I have a concert grand at home, so I have no need for it. All it was doing was taking up room in my house.

"Sorry about the hour," Mr. Crane continued. "I didn't have a truck of my own and needed to borrow a friends. And this was the only time of day besides the middle of the night that he could let me use it."

"How much?" Darry asked. "How much do I owe you? For the piano?"

"Nothing. Like I said, I found it. I didn't pay a cent for it." His eyes rested for a moment on Mia, who was barefoot. He appreciated the slim figure clad in flannel. "Mr. Curtis, I talked today about giving Mia private lessons. Did she mention that conversation to you?"

"Yes, briefly."

"And what is your opinion?"

Darry hadn't really given it much thought. He didn't really know how good Mia actually was; he'd never heard her play before. His first impression was that Mr. Crane was simply being kind to her, overexaggerating her abilities.

"Well, we can't pay for them."

"Not a problem. Like I told Mia earlier, I only wish to further her natural talent. I do not require compensation."

"Well, I suppose it would be fine."

"Perfect." Mr. Crane smiled, flashing his perfectly white, straight teeth. "I'm used to giving lessons at my house. I have the best equipment, far superior to that of the school's. With your permission, of course, I would like to take Mia to my house after school for her lessons starting tomorrow. Is that all right?"

"Sure. That's all right with me." Darry turned to Mia and smiled. Somewhere behind them, they could hear Ponyboy stalking off to his room and shutting the door.

"You can just pick her up on your way home from work. Here's my address." He took a slip of paper out of his breast pocket and handed it to Darry. He lived somewhere between the West and East sides of town, not a soc, not a greaser.

"Thank you," Darry sighed. "Thank you."

With that, Mr. Crane tipped his invisible hat, getting in his borrowed truck and driving away. Soda and Darry rushed to the piano, gently dragging the instrument inside. They placed it besides the couch.

"That was really nice," Soda murmured.

"Yeah, it was," Darry replied, incredulous. "I really can't believe it."

"We should invite him over for dinner," Mia said whimsically.

They nodded in agreement as she stood over the piano (they would have to get a piano stool later) and began to play Fur Elise, the only song she knew by heart. Her two eldest brothers stood and listened in awe. They had their own little prodigy in the family.

XXX

The next day passed like a blur to Mia. At school, she hardly noticed anyone and she paid very little attention to what she did. All she could think about was Mr. Crane and their private lesson at his house this afternoon. In chorus, Mr. Crane didn't have time to talk with her; he was too busy trying to organize the beginnings of the musical. When the bell rang, everyone filed out, leaving Mia and Mr. Crane alone.

"Mia, if you'll just give me a sec, we'll leave in a moment," he said as he began to gather papers from his desk and stack them neatly in a leather briefcase. She watched as he found his thermos and his jacket before looking up.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes," Mia smiled.

The walked in step to the parking lot. When they stood next to a red Mustang, Mr. Crane fished the keys from his pockets and opened the door for Mia. She sat on the leather upholstery and admired the car as her teacher ran around to the other side. He sat in the driver's seat, started the car and began to drive.

"So, how long have you been playing piano?" Mr. Crane asked socially.

"I started playing about a year ago," Mia replied. "My Aunt was a concert pianist and she taught me."

"Only a year? Wow, you're very good for a beginner, practically a natural, I'd say."

Mia blushed and looked out the window. Outside, the late summer sun bleached buildings and made the earth look clean and pure. They entered a neighborhood, passing little white bungalows with perfectly green yards and big leafy trees. They pulled up in front of a particularly charming house with blue shutters and a hand painted birdhouse in a hundred different shades of blue, green, violet and yellow.

Mia opened her door and got out, admiring her dress in the late afternoon light. Mr. Crane opened the door and beckoned Mia inside.

"Wow, you're house is beautiful," Mia whispered as she stepped over the threshold.

"Thank you. You'll have the excuse the mess, though. I'm not exactly all the way settled yet."

Mia didn't know what he was talking about. Even through the strong smell of paint, the sight of furniture veiled with white sheets and half empty boxes, the house still glowed with charm. More modern than her own home, she somehow welcomed within its walls.

"The piano is right this way." He pointed to the sitting room. "Can I get you something to eat or drink? I don't have much, but I do believe I have some Oreos."

"No thank you. I'm fine," Mia replied pleasantly as she wandered off in the direction Mr. Crane pointed. She gasped when she saw the piano, the largest piece in the room. At least nine feet long, it was easly the most beautiful piano she had ever seen with black lacquered wood and ivory keys. She ran her hand over it and was rewarded with a rich, deep sound.

Mr. Crane walked into the room, about a dozen piano books balanced precariously in his arms. He set them down on a couch covered with a white sheet, choosing one from the pile and placing it on the music stand.

"Drills," he explained as he opened to a page. Notes spread out like dancing black dots, thirty-second notes drenching the page in black. "It might seem hard, but we'll go slowly at first. Before you know it, you'll be able to play through the entire book, front and back."

With that, Mr. Crane sat next to Mia on the piano bench and together they started to work through the first page of the book. He proved to be a very patient teacher, gently repositioning Mia's fingers, placing his hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Hmmm..." he muttered after Mia had played a particularly challenging lick. "Let me help you."

He stood up and walked behind Mia, placing his arms under hers. He placed his hands on top of hers and, together, they played the music. When they reached the bottom of the page, he smiled.

"Very good. You're doing a fantastic job!" He let one hand drop to Mia's thigh. He let it rest there before he slowly starting messaging her leg, letting his hand creep until it sat on the inside of her thigh. Bringing his hand up, he slowly maneuvered his hand up Mia's skirt, finding its way through her thin cotton underwear.

"Stop!" Mia shrieked once her mind comprehended what was happening. She jumped up so fast, she elbowed Mr. Crane in the nose, nearly toppling the piano bench over.

"Hey, that's not very nice!" Mr. Crane exclaimed as he rubbed his nose. "All I've shown to you was kindness and this is how you repay me?"

"Sorry." Mia hung her head in shame.

"It's all right. I forgive you. Now, sit back down so we can continue the lesson."

Mia did as she was told. Again, Mr. Crane sat next to her. They had been playing for about fifteen minutes or so when Mr. Crane did it again: his hand caressed her thigh, naked under her skirt, before sliding it under her underpants. She stiffened, not liking the odd sensation spreading from between her legs to the small of her back.

"You like me, right?" he whispered in her ear. "We have a special relationship, don't we?"

Mia nodded in affirmation, her vocal cords frozen in throat. Before she could stop him, Mr. Crane threw her backwards onto the couch. The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was her teacher undoing his belt buckle, dropping his fly. Aggressive hands gripped her shoulders, forcing her down, annihilating her attempts to get up, as an unknown force pushed itself inside of her.

XXX

Twenty minutes later, the two sat back at the piano. Mia had fixed her hair the best she could, but it was still messy. She sat, sore and stiffly, unsure of what just happened. When she heard the knock on the door, she began to run towards it, but Mr. Crane's hands gripped her wrist.

"Mia, this is our little secret," he said. His eyes as well as his voice were serious, and the grip he held on her was strong and painful. "If you tell anyone, you can never hope to have a career in music. Do you understand me?"

She nodded her head, looking down, not daring to meet his eyes. He relaxed his grip on her and the two walked to the door. Mr. Crane opened it, greeting Soda with a smile.

"Hello," the teacher said pleasantly. "We were just finishing up. Would you like to come in?"

"No, sir," Soda replied hastily. "I'm just here to collect my sister."

Mia walked out the door. She wanted desperately to latch onto Soda, to never let him go. But Mr. Crane, as if reading her thoughts, gave her a stern look. She contented herself with morosely hanging her head.

"You know, you have a very special sister," Mr. Crane said. "She is a jewel. You are lucky to have her."

"Well, thank you!" Soda replied, beaming. "I sure do know it."

"You two have a splendid night."

"You too," Soda said.

The door closed and the two walked to the car. Things were quite commonplace as they rode in silence, but Mia was unsure if she would ever be the same again.


	4. Chapter 4

Soda broke the silence when they were only a few streets away from home.

"How did it go?" he asked.

Mia shrugged her shoulders.

"All right, I guess."

Soda was slightly worried about Mia. Usually, he couldn't shut her up. But now, she sat quietly with her hands tucked in her lap, her head bowed. They pulled up in front of the house and Mia got out. Soda followed behind her, watching as she walked with a curious stiff gait.

"Did you hurt yours legs?" he asked as he opened the door.

"No. Why?"

"No reason. You just look like you're in pain."

Mia said nothing as they walked into house. The smells of dinner wafted towards them, but Mia had no appetite. All she wanted was a bath; she felt dirty and sticky in her clothes.

"Oh, good!" Darry came out of the kitchen. "You two are just in time for dinner. Wash up and come sit down."

Mia, not in the mood to argue, washed her hands along with Soda in the kitchen sink, sitting down with her brothers. It was chicken and dumplings for dinner, Mia's favorite, but she could stir her food around, not a morsel reaching her mouth.

"How was your lesson?" Darry asked as he shoveled food into his mouth, immune to Mia's lack of appetite.

"Okay, I guess," she replied with a shrug. "We did a lot of drills. It was hard." She paused for a moment, pushing her food around a bit more. "Actually, I'm kind of tired. May I be excused?"

Darry considered it for a moment, looking towards her plate.

"You didn't eat very much," he commented.

"I'm not hungry," she replied.

Darry shrugged his shoulders.

"You got homework?"

"No. Just tired."

"Get on then." He stuffed another bite of food into his mouth, watching as Mia disappeared out of the room.

The young girl walked into the bathroom. Immediately, she turned the water on, watching as the bathtub filled up with steaming water. She discarded her clothes, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked the exact same she had this morning, save for the bruises that were beginning to develop on her shoulders where _he_ had gripped her. There were ones starting to form on her inner thighs, too. She was disheartened to find that seat of her underwear was drenched in blood. How could she explain that? She couldn't put them in the laundry in case her brothers saw them and she couldn't throw them away for the same reason. She supposed she could hide them somewhere in her room and hope that nobody found them.

The bathtub was full now. She stepped into the scorching water and sat down. She was so sore, it was painful to sit down in the hard tub. But she couldn't focus on that fact; she had to remove from her body whatever _he_ put in it. She began to scrub herself, head to toe, rubbing at herself so hard, her skin became raw and tender. When the water cooled, she replaced it, letting the scorching water run over her body.

XXX

"How long has Mia been in the bathroom for?" Soda asked over the sound of the television. "It's been an hour, hasn't it?"

Darry looked over the top of his newspaper to the clock fixed to the wall.

"Nearly. Why don't you go check on her?"

Soda stood up and walked to the bathroom, gently knocking on the door.

"Mia?" he called. "Are you okay in there?"

He heard the quiet splashes of water, the drip, drip, drop of the leaky faucet. Finally, he heard Mia.

"I'm all right," came her voice. It sounded thin and distant, as if she sat a thousand miles away, not five feet away behind a door.

"Just hurry it up in there, okay? Some of us need to use the bathroom too, you know."

"Okay."

Behind the door, Mia began to get out of the tub. The water and the steam made her head spin. She shook it off as she began to towel herself dry. So far, she hadn't allowed herself to cry, but as she stood there, the tears began to come. _He _was so stupid! She hated _him_! That little warning _he_ had given her was unnecessary. She couldn't tell anybody; she wouldn't even be able to find the right words to use. How could she even describe what _he _did her? She couldn't even describe it to herself.

She wrapped a towel around her middle and collected her dirty clothes. A few drops of blood had soaked through to the inside lining of her dress, but that would be easy to explain if somebody asked: she fell down, she scraped her thighs climbing a tree. The list was endless.

She walked to her room, deposited her dress in the hamper, but clung on to her underwear, searching for a place to hide them. She settled on under her bed, pressed balled up against the baseboards. She highly doubted anybody besides her would look there.

After dressing in her flannel nightgown, she crawled beneath the covers and as silently as she could, she cried until sleep latched on and pulled her under.

XXX

Outside, in the living room, Soda cocked his ears.

"Do you hear something?" he asked his brothers. Over the sound of the television, he could here what sounded like soft sobs.

"I don't hear anything," Pony said.

"Me neither," Darry piped up.

Soda could have sworn the sobbing belonged to Mia, but he shrugged it off.

"Must have been a dog," he said and continued to watch his programming.

XXX

The next morning, Mia woke to someone gently moving her shouldeer back and forth. The motion would have been soothing if she wasn't in so much pain. Cringing, she opened her eyes to find Darry in her room, eying her with a bit of concern.

"You overslept," He stated simply. "Come on. We're going to be late."

Mia hadn't put rollers in the night before, so her hair hung limp and flat around her face. She dressed slowly, her body protesting her every move. She wore a plaid skirt and a white blouse, fixing her hair into two braids that fell down either side of her face. The effect made her look younger than her twelve years, which she considered odd because she felt much older.

In school, she felt as if everyone one was staring at her. In class, she tried not to fidget too much; it hurt to sit down on the hard school seat. Finally, as sixth period ended, time for chorus came. She contemplated skipping, but then she imagined Darry, white eyed with anger as he yelled at her for getting in trouble at school.

Mr. Crane was standing outside the classroom, greeting students as they walked in. His warm smile, the way he struggled to remember students names, squinting hard as he saw each one, it was clandestine, so normal. He looked like a normal teacher. He talked like one, joked like one. But he was not a normal teacher.

"Hey there, Mia," he said. He grabbed her elbow and started to slowly message it. "You made so many improvements in our lesson yesterday. Ready to have another great one today?"

As he touched her, the odd, unpleasant sensation that she felt yesterday began to spread warmly through her thighs. She imagined hitting him in the face, running home, and weeping in Darry's or Soda's or Pony's arms. But then she imagined her career as a pianist ruined, her whole future destroyed as she knew it.

"Yes sir," she replied softly, staring at her shoes.

"That's my girl," he replied. His hand moved from her elbow to under her chin. He slowly lifted her face. "Hey, look at me when I speak to you. You have such a pretty face; I want to see it when we have a conversation, okay?"

"Yes sir." She tried to avoid eye contact with him, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I really like you, Mia," he said so softly she could barely hear him. "Don't ruin this."

The bell rang somewhere off in the distance. Mr. Crane let go of her, and Mia scuttled off in the classroom, taking her seat as her teacher took to the front of the classroom. She couldn't comprehend the words Mr. Crane said as he began the lesson. He wrote things on the board, notes, rhythms, things she already knew. All she could focus on where his hands, the terrible little things, the hands that picked the apple from the forbidden tree, the hands that opened Pandora's box.

When the bell rang, Mia was surprised that an hour had gone by so quickly. The others students quickly filed out, laughing at one another, telling stories and cracking jokes. They belonged to a world Mia would never belong to again.

"Come alone, Mia," Mr. Crane cajoled. He opened the door. "Coming?"

Mia obliged. She stiffly walked to the door, following her teacher had a distant to the parking lot. The two, still separated by about ten feet or so, had just walked out the door when Mia was ambushed by five girls. They had all been her friends in a different life time.

"Well, if it isn't Amelia," said the ring leader, a girl name Lucille with shiny blond ringlets and blue eyes. "Back from the loony bin, are we?"

Mia didn't know what she was talking. She tried to keep walking, but the other girls, Mary, Jennifer, Jessica and Marcia, blocked her path.

"Teacher's pet!" Lucille screamed and the other girls followed suit. Mia tried to run away in the opposite direction, but Lucille threw her arms out and pushed Mia down. The bullied girl broke her fall with her knees and hands. Blood started to pour from her broken skin as she sat smarting and humiliated.

"Excuse me girls," Mr. Crane said as he pushed his way through the crowd. He found Mia and helped her up. "Are you okay?"

Mia nodded softly, her eyes down as tears started to pour down her cheeks.

"I don't ever want to see anyone acting this way again," he yelled angrily as he looked all the girls in the eyes. "If I see this again, I'm going to have to report it. I'm letting you off with a warning this time."

Mia couldn't tell if she was grateful or mortified or absolutely terrified out of her mind as Mr. Crane led her to his car. As he started the car and began to drive off, Mia let the tears flow freely, let the sobs wrack her body.

"It's okay, Mia," Mr. Crane said gently. "Those girls are just jealous of us and our special relationship." He turned to her and smiled. "They just don't understand."

He pulled up to his driveway and he and Mia walked to the front door. The blood began to congeal and Mr. Crane, sizing her up, led her to the kitchen.

"I've got a first aid kit around here somewhere," he muttered. He opened a cabinet and pulled a white box with a red cross on it from its shelf. "Here, let's set you up here so I can see better."

He hauled Mia up by her armpits, setting her on the countertop before he began to search through the box. He found a bottle of rubbing alcohol, gauze and some bandages.

"This should sting only a little." Mr. Crane applied the alcohol to the gauze and began to clean the wounds, one on each knee and one on each hand. Mia winced, closing her eyes. The pain subsided when he began to wrap the bandages around her scrapes, the soft pressure providing relief.

"Thank you," Mia breathed.

"No problem," he replied. He began to stroke her hair softly, then her back. His hands reached back around front and began to descend lower and lower.

"Please, please don't," she whispered as his hands began to caress her thighs.

"Why not?" he asked. His hands found themselves under her skirt.

"Because," she replied, her voice cracking, "it hurts."

"Only the first time." His breath was hot and humid in her ears. She closed her eyes, but that didn't stop her from hearing the sound of him undoing his buckle, didn't stop her from feeling her underwear being jerked from her body, didn't stop her from feeling everything that came after.

XXX

They were working on the music for the production when they heard the knock at the door. Mr. Crane didn't attempt to stop Mia as she ran towards the noise and opened the door. The eldest Curtis stood there awakwardly, his thumbs hooked in his pockets.

"Hello, Mr. Curtis," said Mr. Crane, who had walked up behind Mia. "What a pleasure it is to see you tonight."

"Oh," Darry replied humbly. "Please, call me Darrel or Darry. Everybody does. Did Mia behave herself tonight?"

"Call me Gregory. And she was an absolute delight. She's a natural, you know."

Mia went to stand by her brother, standing slightly behind him as if he could protect her from the evil man.

"I wanted to ask you something," Darry suddenly said. "Mia suggested it. Would you like to join us for dinner sometime? After all you've done, it's the least we could do."

"I would love nothing more than to dine with!" Mr. Crane exclaimed. "What time?"

"Friday?" Darry asked. "At about seven?"

"Splendid." Mr. Crane's eyes glinted. "Have a good evening."

"You too," Darry said. "See you on Friday."

As the two walked to the car, Mia felt nauseous, absolutely sick at the idea of the letting that man, that thing, into the sanctity of home.

Darry made more of an attempt to start a conversation than Soda had made yesterday.

"So, how did it go?"

"Fine." She held her head low and did not look him in the eye, afraid if she did, he would see the truth hidden in her face.

"What did you?"

"Drills." She shrugged. "We also went over the music for the musical production. Did I tell you that I'm going to be the pianist?"

"No, you didn't." He turned to her brimming. "That's fantastic! When is the musical? I'll have to get off of work to come and see you."

"I don't know yet. It's still in the distant future."

Darry nodded and turned back towards the road. Mr. Crane, he decided, must work her very hard. She seemed tired, drained after both lessons.

"You know, Mr. Crane is a godsend," Darry said pensively. "Think about it, you being a professional musician. Just keep up the hard work and it'll before you know it." He reached a hand out, tossling her braids. He was very surprised to feel her jump, to pull away from the touch. Mia usually wasn't jumpy. Then he remembered the bruises she had shown them, where Uncle Paul had "spanked" her. Her reaction must have been a residual affect, he rationalized. She would get over it; time would heal her.

When the two arrived home, Mia didn't even go to the kitchen, where Soda and Pony were fixing dinner. She went straight to the bathroom with only a word of explanation to her brothers. She felt dirty again. The feeling wasn't as great as it had been the night before. Still, she struggled out of her tainted clothes and relished in the warm water, the smooth, slippery soap running over her body, cleansing her of her impurities. She was glad to note that there was no blood on her clothes, but there were bruises, both on her inner thighs and her shoulders, where he had clenched her tightly in place. Yesterday's bruises were beginning to fade from purple to gray, but the old wounds were replaced by new.

She went to her room and wrapped herself in her flannel nightgown. She laid down on her bed, but she couldn't sleep. She felt so alone, the most alone she had ever felt in her life. She walked into the kitchen, where her three brothers sat and shoveled spaghetti into their mouths.

"Hungry?" Darry asked. He indicated to her spot, where an empty plate and fork sat. Her stomach protested at the sight of food even though she had not eaten since lunch the day before.

"I'm not hungry," she replied. Before she knew it, she had her arms thrown around Darry's neck, sobbing into his shirt.

"Shhhhh..." he said as he stroked her hair, still wet from her bath. "Shhhhh... it's going to be all right. Hey, what happened to your hands?"

It was the first time he had noticed the scrapes.

"I have some on my knees too," she sniffled. She raised her nightgown up just enough to show her brothers the scrapes, now halfway scabbed over.

"What happened?" Soda asked.

"A girl at school pushed me down," she said, sniffling more into Darry's shirt. "She called me a teacher's pet and asked me if I was back from the loony bin."

Both Darry and Soda felt an anger towards the child that had done this to their little sister. They assummed the tears Mia was crying was due to that little incident. It didn't occur to them that something way more sinister, gruesome, incomprehensible could be happening.

"Shhhh.." Darry soothed. "Tell that girl if she ever messes with you again, that you've got three big brothers who'll gladly take care of things."

Mia smiled in spite of herself. Darry always solved things in his "I'm-a-big-muscle-man way." She only wished that this little facade could protect her from the bigger evils in the world.

"I'm tired," she said. "Goodnight." She hugged each one of her brothers firmly around the neck and gave them a little peck on each cheek before retiring to her room.

XXX

Mia woke with a start, sitting up in bed as she widly searched around her room.

"It was only a dream... it was only a dream..." she repeated to herself over and over again like a mantra, trying to soothe the terror that just sent her heart wild. The dream had started good, fun, happy. Two-Bit had come over to play cards and eat chocolate cake and watch Mickey Mouse when all of a sudden he threw himself on top of her.

"Two-Bit!" she had cried, only when he went to show his face, it wasn't Two-Bit at all, but Mr. Crane.

Mia got out of bed, sleep futile, a worthless commodity that would plunge her back into the nightmarish world that she had become to know as her life. She walked out of her room intent on using the bathroom, but she could see a distant light on. She followed to the kitchen, where Soda stood, digging in the ice box.

"Soda?" Mia asked. Soda looked up and smile, extracting a chocolate cake.

"Hope I didn't wake you," he whispered. He put the cake down and pulled out two saucers from the cabinet. "Do you want some? You can't tell Darry, though."

Mia was about to deny the offer when her stomach growled, obviously hungry after nearly two days without food. She nodded her head as Soda placed a rather large piece in front of her. Soda took his place besides her, and together, the two began to munch their midnight snack.

"Soda?" Mia asked uneasily after a few bites of her cake.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever had a secret that you couldn't tell anyone?" She felt uneasy as she expelled the words.

"Like what kind of secret?"

"Like any kind of secret."

Soda thought hard for a moment.

"When I was six," he began, "I broke mom's vase. I didn't want to tell anyone, so I hid the pieces and pretended someone had stolen it when she asked about it. The secret ate me inside and out. Finally, I told her, and you know what? She really wasn't that mad." He took a huge bite before speaking again. "Is that the kind of secret you're talking about?"

"Not exactly." She felt sick to her stomach. She ran to the bathroom before the bile rose to her throat, the words to her mouth. She emptied the few bites she had taken in a few wretches into the toilet. She could feel fingers pull her hair back.

"Easy, Mia," he whispered.

Mia couldn't help herself; she flung her arms around Soda and cried, sobs wracking her body.


	5. Chapter 5

Darry and Soda rode together in the truck, on their way to their respective jobs. They had just dropped Pony and Mia off and, separately, began to ponder the morning road.

"Mia's readjusting to life here harder than I thought she would," Soda commented, staring out the windshield.

Darry nodded in agreement. He had woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of retching. When he came out, Mia was sobbing her eyes out in Soda's arms. She kept talking through her hiccups, but neither could understand what she was trying to say. Eventually, the calmed her down enough to send her back to bed, but she wouldn't be left alone. She insisted Soda stay.

"Maybe we should send her back," Darry suggested uneasily. "Back to Aunt Margaret."

Soda's eyes went wide. He had spent the rest of the night with Mia, whose tears continued to fall well into the wee hours of the morning.

"We can't send her back. You saw the bruises. Are we really going to send her back to that?"

"But Soda, you know, you saw. She's a complete mess."

"You know," Soda said thoughtfully. "She was perfectly fine until school started. In fact, she was more than fine. She was great! It's just those girls bullying her. Once they get bored with Mia, then they'll move onto something else."

"I hope so," Darry muttered. "I can't stand the notion of not having her here, where I can watch over her. I was so worried when she was at Aunt Margaret's. But now that she's here, I can worry less. Let's me have a piece of mind, you know?"

They arrived at the gas station and Soda opened his door.

"I know exactly how you feel," Soda replied as he got out of the car. "I wouldn't send her back for anything in the world."

The exchanged their goodbyes, and Darry rode on to his work at a construction site.

XXX

Ponyboy walked the long, crowded hallways of his high school, intent on going to his last class of the time day, history class with Mr. Smith, when a gang of boys surrounded him.

"I heard you're crazy sister is back," taunted Mark, a middle class kid who thought he was more. "Did she kill anymore people?"

Ponyboy didn't even look at his face. He went to push past them, but Mark slammed him against the lockers.

"I said," Mark yelled loudly, making everyone in the hallway turn their heads to look at the spectacle, "did your crazy assed sister kill anymore people?"

Ponyboy couldn't help it; he pushed back at Mark, who stumbled backwards both from the force and surprise. Ponyboy went to throw a punch, but the four or so boys surrounding Mark were a lot stronger combined than Ponyboy. All he could do was cover his face as as the kicks and the punches and insults came flying at hime from all directions, forcing him to the ground.

After what felt like hours, days, weeks, years, hands hauled him up from his armpits, and he mentally thanked the rescuer. The relief was short lived, though, for punches started coming at him at all sides.

"Hey," a voice sneered. "Do you think he'd start speaking if we skewered him?"

Ponyboy became faintly aware of the feeling of cool metal on his skin. He went limp in the restraining hands, dropping to the floor again as everything went black.

XXX

Darry was on the roof of a house when he heard the shouts.

"Curtis! Hey, Curtis, get down here, right now!" The voice belonged to his boss.

His stomach did backflips as he jumped down the ladder at a rapid speed. He just knew that he was going to get fired. Why else would Mr. Patrick violently yell at him?

"Yes sir?" Darry said as he faced his boss, a short older man with a black mustache and a scowl.

"I just got a call from the high school," he said. His voice dropped to a sympathetic scowl. "Apparently, there's been some sort of accident. You're brother is on the way to the hospital right now as we speak."

For a moment, Darry felt relief that he wasn't being fired. Then, he felt ashamed of himself before the words actually sunk it.

"Accident?" he asked, his voice rising an octave. "What kind of accident?"

"They didn't say. Hey, kid, take the rest of the day off, okay?" Mr. Patrick smiled at Darry.

"Thank you, sir," Darry said as he ran off to his truck.

Oh, God, he thought to himself as he drove away. Please let Ponyboy be all right.

XXX

It was near the end of chorus and Mia sat dreading the moment the bell rang, wishing she would die than go back to Mr. Crane's house when door to the classroom flew open. The secretary from the office hastily walked to Mr. Crane, who whispered something in his ear.

"Mia, come here please," Mr. Crane said. Mia walked to the front of the room, her legs jello. She was surprised when he put a hand on her shoulder and guided her out of the room. Wordlessly, the three walked to the office.

"Darry!" Mia shouted as she spotted her eldest brother in the office, his shoulders hunched as if he was too big for the place. "What are you doing here?"

"Ponyboy was in accident," Darry said hastily. "We need to go the hospital. Soda's working a double shift at the gas station tonight, so he can't pick you up from your piano lesson or watch you when you get home. You'll have to come with me." He held out his hand for Mia to take and she took it gratefully.

"What kind of accident?" she asked, fearful. She thanked God for answering her prayer; she wouldn't have to go with Mr. Crane after all.

"They didn't say. Come on let's go."

They were halfway out the door when Mr. Crane cleared his throat.

"If it's all the same," he started, "I'll be more than happy to watch Mia for the evening."

"You don't have to do that," Darry replied, but even as he said it, he dropped Mia's hand. "I couldn't even ask."

"You aren't asking me; I'm offering." He smiled warmly down to Mia. "It would give us extra time to practice."

"Well if you're absolutely sure.." Darry looked around uneasily.

"Look, I know what's it like to balance watching your siblings with everything else going in life." He looked down at his shoes, suddenly sad for a moment. "I used to be in charge of my little sister. I only had one to take care of. I can't even imagine three."

"Thank you," Darry replied, tears starting to well up in his eyes. "I don't know when I'll be able to pick her up, but I'll get there as fast as I can. I'd send Soda, but he's working until midnight."

"Don't worry about," Mr. Crane smiled. "And we'll reschedule dinner tomorrow night. Go take care of things. We'll be just fine."

"Thank you," Darry repeated, running out of office. The bell rang around them and kids began spreading throughout the school, seeping through the catacombs like water in the Titanic.

Mr. Crane grabbed Mia's hand and together they walked to his car.

XXX

Darry sped to the hospital, running through the parking lot to the emergency room. He found the nurses station and began to speak in a hurried, heavy speech.

"My... brother," he said between breaths. "He was... in an accident...at school. And they said... they said they brought him here. His name is... is Ponyboy Curtis. Can you tell me... tell me... where he is?"

The nurse gave him a pitying glare before grabbing a manila folder from her desk and propping it open.

"They're back there working on him," she said as she looked at the file. "But you can't go back there. You got to wait here and someone will talk to you when he's stable."

"Stable?" Darry could feel is heart palpatating in his chest, his palms starting to sweat. "What happened to him? What kind of accident was he in?"

"There's some person from the school around," she replied, staring around at the waiting room. "He came in with the young man, hoping to speak to his parents. Oh, there he is." She pointed to Principal Howard, the same man who governed the school when Darry had gone there.

"Darrel Curtis," Mr. Howard said as he stuck out his hand. "How informed are you of the situation are you?"

"I don't know anything. I was just told to come down here, there'd been an accident."

"Well." Mr. Howard, who always seemed so suave and authoritative, all of a sudden seemed sheepish. "There was a fight at school between your brother and a few other young men. In self defense, the oppossing side took a knife out."

"What?" Darry asked, his voice cracking. "Is he... is he all right?"

"I don't know. They haven't given me any new information."

"Well, how are the other boys? I mean, do you know about their conditions yet?"

Mr. Howard looked embarrassed.

"Actually, the other boys are just fine. They're at school right now receiving disciplinary action."

"Just fine?" Darry snorted. "Then how come they pulled out a blade in self defense? Tell me, did my brother even tried to defend himself? Did he even throw a punch?" He was screaming now, tears running down his face. He could not imagine losing one of his brothers. Losing his parents and Johnny and Dally-- that was hard enough. But he could not lose Ponyboy. He tried to imagine a life without him, and couldn't.

"Look, the parents of the boys are on their way right now. I'm going back to the school to have a conversation with everyone involved. Honestly, I was not there. All I have are the eye witness reports." Mr. Howard rubbed his hand over his face. "Everone who was there, everyone who saw it said that it was your brother who started it and other boys were just defending themselves."

"Why?" Darry asked, his voice angry through the tears. "Why would my brother pick a fight with several boys? Tell me! Why?"

"Darrel, I'm being honest with you here: you and your siblings haven't been the same since your parents died. Then there was that... little incident last November. It's enough to send anyone over the edge. School policy is that we discipline everyone who gets involved in a fight, but we're going to let Ponyboy off with a warning just this once."

"Yeah," Darry sneered. "Can't punish him if he's dead, right?" His own harsh words sent him into fresh tears.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Mr. Howard suggested as he lead Darry over to a chair. "I'm going to go back to the school now. Please keep me updated, all right?"

With that, Mr. Howard turned and left, leaving Darry alone with his thoughts. He sat in the waiting room for hours, looking towards the clock, checking with the nurse who patiently told him to sit back down. Finally, when the windows had darkened and the short hand on the clock pointed to an eight, a doctor in a long white coat came out, asking the nurse at the station for the Curtis Boy's parents.

"I'm his legal guardian." Darry stood up and walked towards the doctor. He looked tired and worn.

"I'm Dr. Gable," said the doctor. "Why don't we have a seat? How did you say you were related to Ponyboy?"

"I'm his brother," he explained. "How's he doing. Is he going to be all right?"

"He's in stable condition at the moment. The knife perforated his intestines and we fixed that the best we could be staples. He suffered a concussion as well. He'll be out of comission for a while, but he'll live."

Darry breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Can I see him?"

"Of course," the doctor replied cheerfully. "He's pretty banged up, so don't be too surprised when you see him. Just remember that he looks a lot worse than he actually is. I'll let Linda over here take you to him." He indicated to a young, pretty nurse in a sterile white dress.

Darry walked along nervously through the hospital, up the stairs where the in patients resided. When the stopped at the door labeled ICU, he gulped, again fearing the worst. They walked through the door, pausing at an occupied bed.

"Here we are," the nurse said practically. She left Darry with his youngest brother.

"Ponyboy?" Darry breathed. He barely recognized the boy; his eyes were swollen shut from bruises, his face a deep, darkish purple. In his right arm, small tubes stuck out. Darry sat in the chair besides the bed, scooting it up closer so he could take his brother's hand.

"Ponyboy?" he said again. "Golly, kid, what did they do to you?"

Ponyboy moaned softly in his drug induced sleep while Darry continued to hold his hand and pray that everything would, in fact, turn out all right.

XXX

Mia sat on the piano bench, her fingers moving quickly along, the same tempo as her heartbeat. Mr. Crane was in the kitchen, cleaning up from a late dinner of Kraft macaroni and cheese. All in all, it had been a very good night and she was in a favorable mood. They two had laughed and talked and played piano, but mostly, Mr. Crane had been able to keep his hands to himself. She smiled to herself as she played a particularly beautiful chord.

"Very nice, Mia," Mr. Crane said, wiping his hands on a dish towel. She hadn't noticed him entering the room.

"Thank you," she replied. She stifled a yawn, rubbing her eyes with her hands in a childlike manner.

"Somebody looks tired. I bet it's past your bedtime."

Mia looked to the clock on the wall and saw, sure enough, that it was half past ten. She supressed another yawn and stretched her arms in the air.

"I am a little tired," she agreed, looking around Mr. Crane's house, trying to assess where could sleep for the night. The furniture had been removed of its white coverings, the walls completed. The couch looked particularly comfortable.

"I'll sleep on the couch tonight," Mr. Crane suggested as he walked out of the room. He walked back in a moment later with sheets, pillows and blankets. He began to make his bed before turning back to Mia. "You can sleep in my bed tonight. I'll show you where it is."

She followed him past the bathroom, past the dining room and various pieces of art to his bedroom. It was surprisingly tidy with a mahogany dresser in one corner and a roll top desk in another and a full size bed in the center between the two.

"Bathroom's down the hall," Mr. Crane said. "Just holler if you need anything. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Mia replied pleasantly. She took off her shoes and her socks and climbed into the cool, crisp sheets. In only moments, she fell asleep.

Mia dreamt she was a princess with a long flowing dress. A knight in shining armor on a pure white horse galloped up to her. He beckoned her with his hand, and as she walked over to him, gliding in delicate glass slippers, he flipped his visor up. It was Mr. Crane.

Mia woke up with a start, her heart pumping furiously in her chest. It took her a moment to realize she wasn't alone. Mr. Crane loomed over the bed for a moment before sliding in next to her.

"Mia, my dear," he murmured. He grabbed her wrists as Mia struggled to get away. He pulled himself on top of her and Mia was horrified to realize he was completely naked.

"No!" she tried to scream, but her voice became frozen in her throat. She struggled to get away, but Mr. Crane's grip on her was too hard.

"Just relax, my love. Just relax."

Mia sobbed the entire time.

XXX

Soda pulled into the driveway of Mr. Crane's house. It was one in the morning and exhaustion obscured Soda's vision. At midnight, when he had gotten off of work, Darry drove up in the truck. He explained everything that had happened as they drove to the hospital. After they two eldest Curtis' visited with their sleeping, battered brother, Darry handed the keys to Soda and asked him to collect Mia and bring her home, where both of them could get some rest.

He walked to the front door and knocked, hoping Mr. Crane wasn't too deeply asleep. Moments later, the door open and there stood Mia's piano teacher, clad in blue pajamas and a red terry cloth bath robe, squinty eyed, rubbing his hair, which stuck out at all angles.

"Come in," muttered Mr. Crane. Soda followed the man inside, past the living room where the piano sat. He saw the couch, now a makeshift bed, with pillows and blankets tossed haphazardly on top of it. They walked into the bedroom, where Mia laid, asleep, in a fetal position.

"Come here," Soda whispered softly as he gently lifted Mia off the bed. He grasped her discarded shoes and socks and walked back to the door.

"Thank for looking after her," Soda said as Mia's head lolled onto his shoulder.

"It was my pleasure," Mr. Crane replied, polite and pleasant in spite of the hour.

Soda nodded once to the man before walking back to the truck, placing Mia inside before taking his place in the driver's side, starting the engine and heading off towards home.


	6. Chapter 6

"Come here, honey," Soda whispered softly as he lifted Mia out of the car. He was surprised by how small she was. Even though she could act so mature sometimes, she was still a child, an infant adult.

He walked into the dark, empty house, where just earlier that day, they had all sat around the breakfast table, smiling and laughing. So much had changed since that time. In his mind, he saw Ponyboy, his face swollen beyond recognition with tubes sticking out of him. His first reaction upon seeing his brother was that he was going to die, but Darry reassured him otherwise. Still, he was worried.

He found Mia's room and softly deposited her on her bed, pulling back the covers and lifting them to her chin. He admired the sleeping girl for a moment, glad of her innocence, something the boys had lost a long time ago. As quietly as he could, he began to tiptoe out of the room when a soft moan halted him.

"Soda?" Mia muttered, her voice distorted by sleep.

"Yeah, baby? What is it?"

"Ponyboy... how is he?"

Soda walked back to the bed, slowly dropping to his knees, and clasping Mia's hands. The girl had her eyes open now, staring expectantly up at her brother.

"Pony's going to be just fine," he said, his tone as soft and soothing as could make it. "He just had... a little bit of an accident and he'll be home real soon."

"Can we go to the hospital and visit him tomorrow?" Even through the sleepiness in her voice, Soda could hear the expectancy.

"Of course." He smiled and gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. "We'll go first thing in the morning."

He got up to leave, but Mia's voice spoke again.

"Soda, please, don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere."

He sat on the bed, his back pressed against the wall as Mia snuggled up to fit in the crook of his arm.

"I'm really sad," Mia muttered into his side. In response, Soda hugged her harder. Neither of them was really surprised when the tears came.

"Pony's going to be all right," Soda tried to reassure her, but that only made it worse. What Soda didn't know was that Mia wasn't crying for Ponyboy; she was crying for herself.

XXX

Soda woke when the sunlight began streaming in through the gossamer curtains. His boss had given him the day off and he had already decided, without even consulting Darry, that Mia wasn't going to school that day. His back was sore from falling asleep in a sitting position, but as he looked to Mia, who was fast asleep, pushed against his side, he wouldn't have had it any other way.

As slowly and quietly as he could so as not to wake Mia, he stood up and got out of bed. His attempts were futile, though, as the girl's eyes flipped open.

"Good morning, Mia," Soda whispered. "Go back to sleep, all right?"

"No," she replied as she got out of bed. "You said we could go and see Ponyboy first thing this morning, remember."

"Yeah, I do," Soda smiled. "Come on, let's go have some breakfast. We can't go anywhere on an empty stomach."

Mia stood up, shaking sleep from her head as she readily followed Soda into the kitchen. In spite of herself, she felt ravenous. She didn't even have to ask what they were having, and wasn't surprised in the slightest when he produced a chocolate cake from the ice box. Soda sat down, placed a slice in front of her and ate it with a ferocious rapidity before running back to her room to get dressed.

She pulled a pair of blue jeans on and a pink blouse and as she did, it occurred to her that shouldn't be happy. Her brother was in the hospital, after all. But she wouldn't have to go to school, wouldn't have to go to piano lessons. She fashioned her hair into a ponytail and ran out to meet Soda.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

It was a short drive to the hospital. When they got there, they walked with a solemnity, Soda's authentic, Mia's feigned. They breezed past the nurses station, up the stairs to the ward where Ponyboy laid. Nothing actually sunk for Mia, though, until she walked in and saw two of her brothers, one laying battered and broken in a hospital room, the other sitting exhausted in a chair, bags under his eyes. She immediately felt ashamed of herself for even feeling happy for a second.

"Hey, Darry," Soda said softly, walking over towards the two. "How's he doing?"

"All right," Darry replied, rubbing his face with his hands. "He hasn't woken up yet, but the doctor says that's normal."

"Darry," Soda started, "you look exhausted. Why don't you go home and get some sleep?"

"I can't... I have to stay here and make sure he's okay." Tears began to leak from Darry's eyes. "What if he... what if we lose him?"

"Look, Darry." Soda walked over to Darry and placed an arm him. "Pony's not going to get better any faster with you sitting here, worrying your head off. You should go home and get some sleep before you end up in the hospital yourself."

"But about when Pony wakes up?"

"Me and Mia, we ain't going anywhere." Soda helped Darry to his feet and helped him to the door. "We'll call and keep you updated and when he wakes up, we'll call you, okay?"

Darry looked like he wanted to argue, but what was way too tired to. He went to Mia and touched her on the shoulder.

"Hey, kiddo, see you later," he said before walking out the door.

Soda and Mia were left alone with Ponyboy. Soda slowly walked over to the bed, sitting down in the chair Darry just left, grasping his younger brother's hand.

"Pony," he whispered. "What did they do to you?" Soda brought his hands to his face and began to weep inside of them.

Mia walked up to the other side of the bed and considered her brother. She felt tears well to her own eyes. How could she ever think what was happening to her was bad? What Mr. Crane did to her, yes, it hurt physically and mentally and emotionally. But it did not kill her and it would not kill her. Pony, on the other hand, was battered and broken and probably somewhere very near death. She could not let herself feel pity anymore, not let herself feel sad. She thought of how she had tried to tell Soda just the other night and her stomach twisted. She couldn't bother anybody with her problems, which seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. Besides, both Darry and Soda seemed so proud of her piano playing talent and telling her what Mr. Crane had done to her might ruin everything including, and especially, her future.

"Ponyboy," Mia whispered and a shed a tear, not for herself this time, but for her brother. His eyes twitched under their lids and his lolled softly from side to side. A moment later, he opened his soft, green eyes and looked around.

"Hey, Pony," Soda whispered. "How're you feeling?"

Pony looked around for a moment, taking everything in.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"You're in the hospital." The relief flooded Soda so rapidly and so suddenly that he actually began to laugh. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

Ponyboy was silent for a moment, thinking hard.

"About five guys jumped me in the hallway," he replied after several minutes. "I didn't get a punch in. I guess I must've passed out."

"They hurt you good, Pony, but you're all right."

"I guess," he replied. "But stomach sure hurts, though." He pulled back the blankets slightly, lifting up his gown, revealing the incision, now closed shut with sutures, for the first time.

"Golly, what happened there?" he asked.

"Don't you remember? They pulled a knife out on you."

Ponyboy shook his head, vaguely remembering the cool glint of metal on his skin, a sharp stab of pain before he fell to his knees, the world becoming lost in a blurry, black abyss.

"Where's Darry?" Pony asked, staring around the room, as if his eldest brother might be hiding somewhere amongst the hospital beds and IV pumps.

"He was just here, but he was exhausted, so I sent him home. He stayed up all night with you."

"He did?" Ponyboy would have inquired further, but the curtains partioning off a section of the room where pushed aside, revealing a doctor in a white over coat.

"Is everyone in here family?" he asked as he eyed up Mia and Soda.

"We're Pony's siblings," Soda said softly. "Our oldest brother just left to get some sleep, but you can tell us anything you told him."

"All right," he replied with a shrug. He walked to Ponyboy, checking his vitals. "Good to see you awake. How're you feeling?"

"Sore," Pony replied after considering the question for a moment.

"Well, everthing looks good. No bones are fractured. Let me just take a look at your stitches."

Pony once again revealed the incision, about three or so inches across his abdomen. He winced slightly as the doctor poked him gently with his fingers.

"They must have cut me pretty bad," Pony remarked, thinking about the size of an average stab wound and comparing it to his stomach.

"Actually, they didn't cut you as bad as you think," the doctor replied. "We had to make your stab wound bigger to fix your perforated intestines."

"My what?" Pony asked. "How long is it going to take me to heal?"

"No physical activity for a six weeks, but it's going to take a little longer than that for you to get one hundred percent better."

"But, doc, track practice begins next week. I have to do it, I'll have to. I'll miss the entire season if I don't start with the rest."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you," the doctor said with a shrug. "If you exert yourself too much, you'll be right back here with popped stitches and more pain than you can imagine. On the plus side, I feel comfortable about sending you home either later today or tomorrow, depending on how everything looks. Okay?"

"Okay," Pony replied, both sad and happy at the same time. "Hey, doc, do you think I could get something to eat? I'm starved."

The doctor smiled warmly for a moment.

"Of course. I'll get a nurse to bring a tray right up."

With that, he left, leaving the three siblings to their own devices.

For a few hours, the three laughed and talked and discussed things. At noon, Soda stood up and said that he should probably call Darry now and tell him that Pony was finally up. He excused himself, walking down the long hospital corridors, intent on finding a pay phone. He found one, in a waiting room just past a nurses station. Shoving dimes in the machine, he picked up the receiver and dialed his own number. It rang three times before someone picked.

"Hello?" Darry asked into the receiver.

"Hey, Darry, it's me, Soda."

"How's he doing?" Darry sounded tired, but alert, not as if he had been sleeping, but as if he had been sitting up, purposefully waiting for a call.

"He's doing fine. He's awake and the doc says he might even get to home today."

"That's great. Hey, I'm on my way right now, okay?"

Before Soda could say anything else, he heard a click and then the line go dead. He put the receiver back on the cradle, going back to sit with his two youngest siblings.

XXX

Less than a half an hour passed before Darry ran into the room, slightly out of breath. He looked worried, out of his mind, but when he saw Ponyboy, sitting up and laughing through his bruises, which had spread and looked way nastier than they had yesterday, he uttered a sigh of relief.

"Hey, Darry," Pony laughed through a joke Soda had been telling. Mia, sitting in a chair she had found in the waiting room, was in giggles, slapping her hand on her denim clad knee.

"Hey buddy," Darry replied. "How're you feeling?"

Pony wrinkled up his nose.

"I've been better, but not too worse for wear." He paused for a moment to gingerly scratch his face. "Did Soda tell you? The doctor says I'll get to come today."

"That's good. I have some news myself." He sat down on the edge of Pony's bed before he started talking again. "I got a call from the school today. They finally found some eye wintesses that could give an accurate account of things. They got about seven people to say that they saw those five guys jump you, not the other way around. The families of those guys are offering to pay all the medical bills if we don't press charges."

"Well," Ponyboy said, staring around at the hospital room, the medicine being pumped into his veins, the empty food tray sitting besides him. "This can't be cheap, so it sounds like a deal to me."

Soda laughed, gently ruffling his brother's hair. He had not realized how much money had been worrying him until he realized he and Darry wouldn't have to worry about that aspect at all. Things weren't going exactly good, but they were going all right considering the circumstances. After all, his entire living was seated in the same room, alive.

XXX

A nurse helped Ponyboy into a wheelchair. He sat clad in a pair of pajama pants, a sweatshirt and a pair of shoes. He wanted to wear his normal clothes home, not pajamas, but the pressure from the denim was painful, so he settled.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking," he grumbled. Darry ruffled his hair affectionately and Soda smiled. Mia took his hand.

"It's only for a moment," she smiled. Seeing Ponyboy in a wheelchair, seeing him not being able to run for his track team, it further ended her pity party. What if her hands were broken and she couldn't play piano? At least she was whole.

Together, the four siblings walked to where the truck was parked. Darry helped Ponyboy into the car, and together, they set off for home amidst the hazy twilight.

XXX

It was half past eight when they opened the door to their home. Darry wanted Ponyboy to go straight to bed, but the younger boy argued, stating that he had spend the entire day in bed. In the end, they compromised, and Darry let Ponyboy stay in the living room if he promised not to move from the couch. Now, the family, settled in for the evening, enjoyed each other's company. In the kitchen, Darry and Soda prepared supper while Mia sat at her little spinet and played, beautiful music streaming for her fingers.

Things were going all right, the girl decided. After all, she hadn't seen Mr. Crane all day and wouldn't see him until Monday. That meant three blissful days without having to see the evil man.

Just as Soda called everyone to the table, the phone rang. Darry answered it on the third ring.

"Hello," he said. "This is Darrel. Oh, hello, Gregory. Mia was just practicing her piano."

It was Mr. Crane on the phone. Mia had a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

XXX

**Hello, reader! I'm not too big on author's notes, but I thought it relevant to have one today. You see, I love to write. When I have a story idea, I can't do anything else but think about the story and write (hence, over 20,000 words in less than a week). I write because I have to, not for the reviews. On the other, I do enjoy reviews. They tell me what I'm doing right, what I'm doing wrong. So, not to beg or anything, but if you want to review, then I will be more than happy. I will be elated. Thank you for reading this story and there will surely be more to come, regardless of the amount of reviews I receive in the end.**


	7. Chapter 7

Darry stayed on the phone for five minutes before settling it back on the cradle. Mia hadn't allowed herself to listen to the conversation; she didn't want to know what that monster was telling her brother.

"That was your piano teacher," Darry said as he beckoned Mia to the dinner table, where Soda had already settled Pony at his spot. "He wanted to know how Ponyboy was doing. I told him Soda and I both have to work tomorrow and he volunteered to come up and watch you two."

"That's nice of him," Soda commented. He began to fill plates with roast beef, passing them around the table.

"I'm not a child," Pony grumbled. "I can take care of myself. I don't need a babysitter."

"Look, Pony," Darry started. "I don't want you by yourself with only Mia here. If you fell or something and needed help up, Mia couldn't help you. Besides, I didn't ask; he just offered and I accepted."

Mia felt her stomach clench inside her body. The happiness that she had felt earlier that day dissolved into anger and sadness. She remember the resolution she had made earlier that day, though, and didn't speak a word. Besides, Pony would be there and he couldn't possibly harm her if he was there, right?

"Anyway," Darry continued. "He's going to be here early tomorrow morning, probably before you guys even wake up. So just be aware of that, okay?"

Pony just grumbled again, but Mia dropped her fork, her appetite on a new hiatus. Darry and Soda, though, did not notice; they were too preoccupied with Ponyboy, making sure he had enough food.

Mia went to bed early that night, but she couldn't get to sleep, afraid of what the morning might hold.

XXX

Mia woke with an odd feeling that someone was watching over her. She tried to shake the feeling, to go back to sleep, but the feeling, the air in the room, would not allow her to. She opened her eyes and stifled the scream that was half way out of her mouth.

"I missed you, my darling," Mr. Crane purred, standing over her bed. he reached down and began to stroke her long, reddish brown hair.

"My brother," Mia began as she sat up, clandestinely pushing aside Mr. Crane's hand. "He must be awake by now."

"No, he's fast asleep," Mr. Crane replied, pushing Mia back down on the bed. "You see, he woke up earlier, but I gave him a pain pill. He'll be out for hours." He sat down the bed himself. "I like your room; it's so...quaint in a childlike way."

"Why are you doing this?" Mia asked, her voice angry in a calm, cool way, absent of the usual hysterics. "Why don't you find someone your own age?"

"Other girls," Mr. Crane replied, undoing his pants, "Mia, they aren't like you."

His sheer mass on top of the small girl prevented her from moving. She didn't struggle to get away like she had in the past; all she did was close her eyes, remove herself from the situation. It hurt, hurt more every time. But it didn't cripple her. In the name of her future, of her piano playing abilities, she could tolerate it.

When he was finished, he rolled off of her, releasing his tight grip on her arms and zipping up, buttoning his pants.

"If you would like to get dressed," he said, standing at the door, "I'll fix breakfast and then we'll practice piano."

She waited until he was gone before getting out of bed, chanting over and over again, like a mantra, _this will not get to me... this will not get to me..._ In spite of herself, she cried.

XXX

Mia resolved to herself that she wasn't going to leave her room until Pony woke, even if it took all day. She locked her door, pushing her dresser over it. Then, she took her time getting dressed, brushing her hair until it shone brilliantly through the sun streaming through the gossamer curtains. It was now Saturday, over a week since she returned to her brothers. For a moment, she reflected on that time, how much had changed. Once upon a time, about nine days or so ago, she had been a child. Now, so many things had changed.

She found her backpack and dug through it until she found her new textbooks, assignments mentioned, not yet due, and began to work. As she studied Shakespeare and ancient history and algebra and ecosystems, the outside world began to fade until nothing existed save for the words written in her books. Knowledge was her power, her books her savior through her time in Texas. In a small rural town, books had no real importance, but Mia loved them.

When she ran out of homework to do, memorized every poem she could, did arithmetic until her hand bled, she sat back down on her bed and read Sophocles. In fact, it wasn't until the afternoon that she heard Pony's bedroom door open, his soft voice floating down the hall, that she shoved her dresser out of the way and came out herself.

She smelled the scents of something savory, sage perhaps, or maybe something even more potent than that. And then there was that aroma that lay just slighting underneath that smelled sweet and rich. She heard the music next, her little spinet becoming art, used by a monster.

Ponyboy was sitting in his pajamas at the kitchen table with a steaming bowl in front of him, blowing thick spoonfuls of soup from his spoon before shoving the utensil in his mouth.

"Hey Mia," Ponyboy said through thick mouthfuls. "Nice to see you awake. Would you like some soup? Gregory made it?"

The music stopped and a moment later, Mr. Crane appeared, standing in the doorway like some angelic demon.

"Mia," he purred, much the same way he did when Mia first woke up. "Have some soup, my dear. It's my own recipe and I think you'll find it heavenly."

"I'm all right," Mia replied. She sat next to Pony at the table, hoping that being close to her brother would somehow eradicate the evil that stood in the kitchen.

"Oh, but you must eat something!" With a flick to his wrist, he opened the oven to reveal an apple cobbler. "I'll let you have a piece if you promise not to let your older brothers know I let you have dessert for breakfast."

"I'm fine," Mia replied. "I'm not hungry."

"No...no...I insist, you have to eat something." Mr. Crane winked at Mia as he pulled a bowl down from the cabinet and filled it will steaming liquid. He set it in from of Mia along with a spoon. "Here you go."

All of a sudden, Mia had a violent fantasy of throwing the steaming liquid over the man, scorching him, killing him and reclaiming the innocence he had so forcefully taken. Instead, all she could do was stir the soup around, carrots, shreds of chicken and celery bobbing around in the murky broth.

"Eat up," Mr. Crane said, his hand resting on Mia's shoulder, his warm breath in his ear. "Then come to the living room so we can practice."

She as still as she could, not moving until she felt his presence leave from behind her, the soft piano music resuming in the background.

"You know," Ponyboy said thougtfully as he took another bite of soup, "I thought it was going to be lame have Gregory here today, but it's really not. He's really cool. You're so lucky to have him. Think about all you're going to learn from him! I can see it now, Amelia Curtis, concert pianist. Has a nice ring to it, huh?"

Pony smiled at Mia, who could thinly, forcefully return it. She wanted to tell him, wanted to so much that it hurt on the inside, but she didn't what to say, how to start. Even if she did know the right words to describe what Mr. Crane did to her, he might be angry with her, yelling and screaming at her what Mr. Crane had told her..."_Don't ruin a good thing..."_

"Hey, are you okay?" Ponyboy looked to Mia with concern. Her eyes had been closed and she shook ever so faintly.

"I'm fine," Mia replied hastily, but even as she said it, Ponyboy could hear the fine tremors in her voice, as if she was forcing back tears.

"Hey, Mia... it's all right." He stood up and gave her a hug. "What's bothering you? You can tell me."

"I know," Mia replied. A few tears escaped her eyes, but she hastily brushed them aside before Pony could notice anything. "Nothing's bothering me. I just have a stomachache, all right?"

"Okay," Pony said, but he was not convinced. "Do you want to lie down again?"

"No," she replied. "I guess I'll go practice piano."

With that, she picked herself up and walked to the living room. Pony started to resume eating his soup, but decided against it. He found himself a book, and went to the living room to sit on the couch and listen to the sweet music being produced by Mia and her teacher.

XXX

When Darry and Soda walked in from a long day of work, the first thing that struck them was the aroma: a heavenly mixture of sweet and savory. The second thing was the interior of the house itself: it was clean, surfaces sparkling, floors vacuumed clean. The third thing was the noise, the soft music coming from the spinet, where the hands of Mia and Gregory quickly moved along the keys.

"Oh, hello," Mr. Crane said pleasantly as he stood up from the piano. "Mia and I were just doing a little bit of practicing."

"It sounds fantastic," Darry commented. "Did you clean the house?"

"Well, Ponyboy and Mia slept pretty late, and I had nothing to do, so I cleaned."

"You didn't have to," Darry replied incredulously.

"I clean when I get bored. It's sort of stress relieving, you know?" He smiled pleasantly before heading towards the door. "Anyway, dinner's in the oven. I made tuna noodle casserole and homemade bread. There's some apple cobbler on the counter for dessert." He had his hand on the door when Darry spoke.

"You have to join us for dinner, then. You prepared it, after all."

"Oh, I couldn't," Mr. Crane replied, but already, he had removed his hand from the door. "You and Soda just arrived home from work. You guys need some family time."

"No, no I insist. We're just going to wash up, then we can eat." Darry smiled politely, yet firmly, before leaving the living room for the bathroom. Soda followed suit, hoping to wash the motor oil from his hands.

"Come with me, Mia," Mr. Crane said as he headed for the kitchen. "You can help me set the table."

XXX

Darry, Soda and Ponyboy sat, raptured, by their dinner guest. Mr. Crane had traveled, traveled all over the world. He had been to Egypt and China, ridden double decker buses in London, ate gyros in Greece. They listened to the fantastic stories as they ate the food so meticulously prepared, so engrossed that they did not notice Mia, who sat with her hands folded in her lap, her head bowed.

When they were finished with their dinner, Mr. Crane stood up and began to clear the table.

"No, allow me," Darry said hastily as he stood.

"No, no sit down," Mr. replied with a pleasant smile. "You've been working hard all day. Allow me."

Darry sat down awkwardly as he watched Mr. Crane collect the plates and deposit them in the sink. Then, he took the apple cobbler, putting it on the table with a few saucers.

They dug into their dessert with gusto, everyone save Mia. She couldn't stand the idea that this monster was sitting here, in her home. It made her sick, violently ill to her stomach. She had to get away. She waited until everyone had finished their cobbler before she spoke up.

"Do you want to hear me play piano?" she asked softly. Everyone turned to her, as if they suddenly become aware of her presence.

"Sure." Soda stood up alone with Ponyboy. Darry and Mr. Crane, however, remained in their seats.

"You guys go on," Darry said with a wave of his hand. "Gregory and I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay," the three youngest siblings agreed as they traveled to the living room together. Moments later, they heard music floating into the kitchen.

"Thank you," Darry said after a few moments of silence. "Thank you for everything. Mia... she's going through a bit of a tough with school and everything and you... well, you're just helping her out by just being there."

"It's my pleasure," Mr. Crane replied with a smile. "There's absolutely nothing I'd rather do than spend time with Mia. She reminds me so much of my sister."

"How old is your sister?"

"She would be about Soda's age." Mr. Crane looked down at the floor, suddenly very sad. "She was about Mia's age when she... when she passed away."

"I'm so sorry." For a moment, Darry was sad, too. He could not even imagine for a moment what it would be like to lose his siblings, especially Mia, who was so sweet, so innocent, who had the rest of her life spread out in front of her, untainted by the violence the boys had come to know and accept. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's kind of a long story," Mr. Crane said with a sad smile, looking up at Darry.

"It's all right. There's plently of time."

"Her name was Rachel," Mr. Crane started. "And she was a lot like Mia--incredibly intelligent, beautiful. Our mother walked out on us when we were only kids. I was ten; Rachel was only three. She hardly remembers anything about her.

"Anyway, our father was an abusive drunk. When I got a full ride on a music scholarship to the University of North Texas, I jumped at the opportunity, but I couldn't leave Rachel with our dad. Even though I could have lived on campus for free, I chose to live in a shack about five miles away. I brought Rachel with me. I worked when I wasn't at school.

"Well, anyway, it was a Saturday and I was in the library where I worked when the police came and told me they found Rachel drowned in the lake about half a mile from where we lived. It was winter, you see, and the lake was half frozen over and she had thought that she could skate across it. I guess that's what she thought."

Mr. Crane had tears in his eyes, and he sat with his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped beneath his chin.

"I was supposed to be protecting her and I wasn't there for her," continued Mr. Crane, his voice thick with agony. "There's nothing worse than knowing that you're little sister is being hurt, killed right under your nose. And you could have stopped it and you didn't. I miss her so much ever day. It's my fault she's gone."

"Hey," Darry said softly. "It was an accident. You couldn't have known. You pulled her away from an abusive situation and you provided for her the best you could. A tragic accident happened. You couldn't have done anything about it."

They were silent for a few more minutes before Mr. Crane spoke again.

"Thank you for sharing your sister with me. Mentoring her... it's like having another chance to do the right thing, to protect her, you know?"

"Yeah," Darry replied. "I know."

In the living room, the sounds of laughter came floating like butterflies into the kitchen. As he heard those angelic sounds, as perfect as a heavenly choir, he thanked God for the health, the safety, the life of his siblings.

XXX

The next day, Sunday, was one of the few days that both Darry and Soda had off. They all slept late and then shared a large, indolent breakfast. When they were all finally dressed and contemplating the day ahead of them, Soda announced that they needed to go grocery shopping. Darry offered to stay with Ponyboy and Mia, not feeling like going anywhere, decided to stay home as well.

"See ya'll later," Soda said as he ran out the door.

Ponyboy, doped up on his pain medication, was fast asleep on the couch. Mia took the opportunity to worth out a particularly hard math problem from the back at the book, sitting at the kitchen table with her head in one hand, chewing pensively on a pencil.

"Hey, kiddo," Darry said, sitting down with a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. "Whatcha up to? Homework?"

"It's not really homework," Mia replied, staring thoughtfully at her book. "More like a challenge... for fun, you know?"

"Gosh, Mia," Darry laughed, smiling as he took a sip of coffee. "I think you're the only kid in the world that likes to do math for fun." He shook his hand, wrapping his hands around the warm mug.

"Darry..." Mia said uneasily. She put her pencil down, putting it in the binding of her book and pushing the whole lot away from her. She had been thinking about the words she would say all night long, not sleeping much. She had rehearsed again and again and again. Now it was time to tell him; she couldn't let Mr. Crane hurt her again. "I was thinking... well, I have a lot of homework and piano takes a lot time away from school work. And I was thinking... well, I was thinking that I should probably quit piano and chorus to focus... well, to focus more on school."

Darry rubbed his face with one hand. He looked angry and Mia was suddenly sorry for saying anything.

"Mia, don't do this," Darry muttered. "You can't just give up on something just because something gets hard. Do you know how much time Mr. Crane has put into teaching you?"

Mia looked down at her feet, bare, skeletal with her bones poking sharply through. She imagined for a moment the rest of the school year, the rest of her life with Mr. Crane. Just the thought made her cry, thick, salty shameful tears making their way down her cheeks, resting at her chin before falling to the floor.

"Mia," Darry said, his tone softening. He put his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head, rubbing her back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. You're just an amazing piano player. I don't understand why you'd want to quit. Just stick with it, okay? Believe me; you'll be glad you did in the end."

"Okay," Mia sobbed through her tears. It felt good to be hugged, but even hugs from her big brother wouldn't stop nor erase the evils in Mia's life.

"Shhh..." Darry whispered. "It's going to be all right, baby."

His words only made her cry harder.


	8. Chapter 8

Things fell into what felt like a comfortable pattern for the Curtis family. School, work and piano practice were juggled with careful precision. Ponyboy, as soon as he was given the all clear from the doctor, began conditioning, staying at track practice until Mia came home from Mr. Crane's house.

Mia, still keeping with her resolution, stuck with piano. She did her homework after piano practice, and practiced piano during the weekend on her spinet. She tried not to think about what Mr. Crane did to her, but sometimes, it was unavoidable. Certain words made her sad, made her feel shameful, dirty, made the weird sensation between her legs spread to her thighs. The words included virgin, chastity, pure, words that could no longer pertain to Mia.

Elapsed time made the Earth cold, the sky a solid gray, and before anyone could grasp the concept of time, Pony and Mia were looking forward to their five day Thanksgiving vacation. Pony wanted to catch up on sleep, have a few days to not do homework, to just relax, eat, play football. Mia was just happy she wouldn't have to see Mr. Crane.

XXX

Mia woke up on early Thanksgiving, a crisp morning seeping through the window. She was snuggled deep under her covers and she felt happier than she had in a very long time. Two-Bit and Steve had been invited over for dinner and she shivered with excitement at the prospect of seeing them. She hurriedly dressed, running into the kitchen to begin cooking. After all, she had five hungry men to feed and only a few hours to prepare.

She was up before everyone else, and as she cooked, she hummed softly to herself.

"Good morning," a sleepy voice came from the door to the kitchen. Mia turned around to see Soda, standing clad in his pajamas, his hair touseled from sleep. She giggled as he gave her a kiss on the cheek, his stubble tickling her face. "Whatcha cookin'?"

"Everything," she replied. She quickly ran him through the day's menu: turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes, green beans, corn, candied sweet potatoes, rolls, pumpkin pie, and, of course, chocolate cake.

"Can I help?" Soda asked.

"Sure," Mia nodded. "You can help me dress the turkey. I have no idea what I'm doing, so I need all the help I can get."

"Well, I couldn't be too much help. I really don't know what I'm doing either." He wrinkled his nose as he and Mia split open the package, raw turkey juices leaking over the counter. "Hey, you know what we should do? We should dye it green!"

"A green turkey?" Mia asked incredulously. "I'm not sure about that."

"All right, then," Soda said, feigning sadness. "I suppose I could settle on blue or orange or purple."

"How about a delicious golden brown?" Mia suggested.

"Okay, that might just do."

The shared in a brief laugh before getting back to business.

The day continued with a happy, indolent hurriedness. Mia spent her time cooking, watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, and watching football with her brothers. At about noon time, the door burst open and there stood Two-Bit and Steve.

"Hey there, kid," Two-Bit said, ruffling Mia's hair. "It smells really good in here. When do we eat?"

Mia laughed at Two-Bit's eagerness to feast. Steve was a bit more subdued, though. He didn't know Mia as well as Two-Bit, and therefore didn't spend as much time with her. But he was cordial enough, giving her a slight hug, remarking on the decadent scents immiting from the kitchen.

Soon, all six of them were seated around the table, heaped high with food. They laughed and called to one another as they passed dish after dish from one hand to another. When Mia's plate was heaped high with food, she went to take a bite, only to realize that her stomach didn't quite feel right. It hurt, not like when she had the stomach flu, but almost as if someone had punched her in the gut, a sore, cramp-like feeling. She shook off though, and after a moment, the pain ebbed away.

When everyone had eaten their fill, they all went outside to play football. Mia wasn't well versed in the game, but she had wanted to play anyway. Darry, Two-Bit and Mia were on one team, Soda, Steve and Pony on the other.

Mia didn't quite follow what was going on and stayed near the sidelines when violence was involved, watching as the five other boys tackled each other, shoving the ball from one player to the other. Mia was surprised when the ball was shoved into her own hands.

"Run! Run!" a voice called. She began to run as fast as she could, and she thought she would make it, too, when hands caught a hold of her, bringing her down to the ground. Suddenly, three pairs of hands reached down and began tickling her. She laughed with abandon for a few seconds before the touches, although innocent, brotherly in every, became uncomfortable. The odd, unpleasant sensation began to work its way through her privates, this time spreading past her thighs to her knees, to the the small of her back.

"Stop touching me!" she shrieked, her voice high and wavering, before she could stop herself. Immediately, Soda, Pony and Steve stepped away as if the girl had burnt them with her flesh. Slowly, Mia stood up, breathing hard, her face flushed red with shame and embarrassment.

"Sorry," she said lamely, staring towards the ground. "I'm... I'm not feeling too good. I think I'm going to lie down."

She left, hurrying towards the house, before anyone could say anything. She threw open the door, making a bee line to her room, where she flung herself on her bed and began to cry. She didn't know why she acted the way she did; she knew they weren't going to hurt her. She curled up in a ball in her bed; her stomach hurt terribly now, and so did the small of her back and the tops of her thighs. She fell asleep, miserably, hoping the pain, both physical and emotional, would end.

XXX

For the rest of Thanksgiving vacation, Mia rested. Darry, Soda and Pony attributed her lethargy to overworking herself in school; when she wasn't at school, she was practicing her piano or doing homework. She brought home not only As on all her papers, but letters from the teachers saying how she was the top of any given class. So, the three eldest siblings thought it time Mia had a chance to rest for a while before heading back to school.

By the time Monday came along, though, she wasn't feeling any better. If anything, the pain had intensified, making it so she could hardly sit or stand without needing to lie down. She slept through her alarm clock, and Darry had to come and wake her.

"Come on, Mia," he cajoled. "Vacation's over. Time to go back to school."

"Darry," she muttered back, her speech slurred with sleep and pain, "I don't feel good. Can I stay home from school today?"

"Hmmmm..." he murmured under his breath as he felt her forehead for warmth. "Well, you don't have a fever."

"Does that mean I have to go to school?"

"You know the rule," he said as he began to walk towards the door. "You can only stay home if you've got a fever. Now hurry up. Don't want to be late!"

Mia gingerly picked herself out of bed and began to dress, choosing a soft, loose dress and a pair of soft, cotton stockings, trying to avoid putting pressure on her lower stomach. Out in the kitchen, her brothers were eating breakfast, but she skipped the meal; her appetite had left her when the pain came.

All day in school, Mia couldn't concentrate. She sat in her desk with her arms wrapped around the stomach, trying to remove herself from the excruciation. She just wanted the day to end.

At the conclusion of chorus, she went obediently, like she had for months, with Mr. Crane to his car. She hated the man, more than she had ever hated anybody in the entire world, and every day, every time he hurt her, she wondered why she didn't kill, bash his head in with a frying pan, stab him with a knife until his eyes glazed over and drool oozed out of his mouth. But then she would remember the way her older brothers, especially Darry, revered him, and all thoughts would be displaced. After all, what she was going through was only a small price to pay for piano lessons, right?

At Mr. Crane's house, she bypassed the piano bench, sitting down on the couch instead.

"I don't care what we do," Mia said through the pain. "I just need to lie down. I can't stand this." She grimaced as she clutched her belly again.

"What is it, my love?" Mr. Crane murmured. Usually Mia wasn't this submissive. She fought, she cursed, she cried, hit and spit. "Shall we go to the bedroom where we can get... comfortable?"

Mia didn't say anything, just allowed Mr. Crane to lead her to the bed, where she could lie down and try to remedy the pain that throbbed through her body.

As it got colder, the piano teacher became rougher with the girl, holding her down tighter, causing more bruises. She wore more clothes, long sleeves all the time, and the injuries didn't show.

Mr. Crane hoisted Mia onto the bed before he laid next to her for a moment.

"Oh, you know what I love most about you, Mia?" Mr. Crane asked. One of his hands was now working delicately at the top of Mia's stockings, pulling them down as he continued to lay besides her. He didn't wait for her to answer before he continued talking. "I love how you pretend to hate me and our little love affair." He unbutton his pants and leaned over her. "But I know you really love it."

Mia screamed in pain. She absolutely couldn't help it; it hurt worse than anything she had ever experience before, even when she was five and broke her arm at the jungle gym, even when she was seven and Soda accidentally tripped with a hot frying pan in his hand, catching Mia across the arm, giving her a third degree burn.

"Shut up!" Mr. Crane hissed. He took his hand, hurriedly covering up Mia's mouth. When the sobs continued, he thrashed her in the stomach, reducing her to sniffles.

When he was finished, he helped Mia back in her stockings, covered her up with the blankets, turned off the lights and quietly left the room. Sore, aching, in the worst pain ever experienced before in her life, she fell into a restless sleep.

XXX

Darry knocked three times on Mr. Crane's door. It took him only a few moments to answer it. He had a book in his hand.

"Mia wasn't feeling very well," Mr. Crane explained as he allowed Darry into the house. "She's lying down in the bedroom. I think she might have a fever."

"She wasn't feeling well this morning," Darry commented. "You should have called me. I would have came to get her."

"I know you have work," Mr. Crane replied with a shake of his head. "Besides, it's really no trouble at all watching her. You know how much I enjoy her company."

"Well, thank you. It really means a lot." They were now in the bedroom, and Mia laid curled in a fetal position, the blankets up to her chin. Darry pushed aside the covers, picking Mia up. She felt warm, feverish in his arms.

Darry walked with his little sister out to the truck with a final word of thanks to Mr. Crane. He slid her into the cab, getting into the car himself, driving home.

When they arrived at the house, Darry started to carry Mia inside, but she woke up, brushing his hand aside.

"I got it," she muttered. She stood up and slowly, lethargically made her way to the front door. She barely made it to the front door when her body began to heave, her stomach expunging itself of the few bites of food she had taken that day. Most of the bile ended up on her dress and she began to cry.

"Mia?" Soda asked. He had been in the kitchen cooking dinner and now he walked into the living room, concerned. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she wailed. She went to her room to find some clean clothes, her flannel nightgown, before going to the bathroom to clean herself up. She wanted a bath, but she didn't have enough strength. She simply washed the sick from her body, swished her mouth out with water, got into her nightgown, then went to her room, to bed. The pain was worse now, eating at her insides, but not even the terrible agony could keep her awake.

XXX

Darry let Mia sleep for an hour or two before checking on her. He brough a glass of ice water and a thermometer with him.

"Mia?" Darry said softly as he entered the room. There was small lump in the bed, curled up in the bed with the covers pulled tightly over it. He walked over to her, pressing his hand gently to her forehead. She burned with fever. "Here, let's take your temperature."

Mia opened her mouth just enough to allow the thermometer in. Darry sat on the bed while the red line of mercury shot up and up and up. After a few moments, he took it out, shaking it before reading it.

"101.2," he read aloud. "Well kiddo, looks like you're sick. Here, drink this." He pressed the cup of ice water into her hands. She sat up and took a few sips. "Thatta girl. Need to keep your fluids up." He kissed her on the forehead before shoving the blankets back up to her chin before walking out of the room.

"How's she doing?" Soda asked when Darry resumed his spot in his easy chair.

"She's got a fever of 101.2," Darry replied. "She probably has the flu."

XXX

The next morning, Darry woke up early to check on Mia. She was in the exact same position she was in the day before, like she had never moved at all. He walked over to the bed, feeling her forehead. She was even warmer than yesterday, nearly burning Darry's hand on her searing skin. He popped the thermometer in her mouth and cursed under his breath when read the temperature: 103.8.

"I'm calling the doctor," Darry muttered.

He first called into work and told his boss that he was sick and wouldn't be in. Then, he called Dr. Wallace.

"Hey, Doc. It's Darrel Curtis Amelia's sick. Think it's the flu," he said into the receiver. "Got a fever of 103.8. Threw up last night."

"It's been a slow few days with the holiday and all," Dr. Wallace replied. "I'll be there soon."

With that, Darry went back to Mia's room. He sat besides her, stroking her hair. She whimpered as she halfway woke up.

"It hurts, Darry," she whimpered. She laid her head on his shoulder, resting her body in the crook of his arm. Outside the bedroom, he could hear Soda and Pony getting ready.

"I know, baby, I know. The doctor is going to be here soon. He's going to make you all better, okay?" He smoothed her hair some more, kissing her on the forehead. "I'm going to go out and see how Pony and Soda are doing."

"Please don't leave me," Mia sobbed.

"Shhh... I'll be right back." With that, he walked into the kitchen.

"Goodmornin'," Soda said with a yawn. "How's Mia doing?"

"She's got a really high fever," Darry replied. "I called in sick today and the doc is on his way. I'm going to go back in and sit with her until he comes. You guys gonna be all right?"

"We'll be fine, Darry," Pony said, stretching out his arms. "Go take care of Mia."

He ruffled both of his little brothers' hair before returning to Mia's room. She looked so small, so pale, so sick in her bed. Darry sat down next to her and she quickly snuggled up besides him.

Darry listened to the sounds outside the bedroom. He heard Soda and Pony leave the house, the quiet creakings of an old house settling, the scurrying of critters in the attic, the labored breathing of his only sister.

An hour hadn't gone by since his conversation with the Doc when Darry heard the staccato knocks on the door, the tell tale signs of Dr. Wallace. He again removed Mia from his shoulder, placing her gently on the bed before making his way to the living room.

"Thanks for coming so quickly," Darry said as he opened the door to the let Dr. Wallace, an older gentlemen with a bald head and suspenders, in.

"She's sounds quite sick," Dr. Wallace replied. "Where is the child?"

"Just this way." Darry lead the doctor to Mia's room, where Darry gently shook her awake.

The doctor walked up to the sick child, taking a thermometer out of his bag. He put the tip of it into Mia's mouth, turning to Darry for information.

"When did she start getting sick?" he asked.

"She started complaining of not feeling well yesterday."

"And she threw up, you said?"

"Yeah, last night."

Dr. Wallace removed the thermometer from Mia's mouth.

"104.1," he read aloud. "That's higher than it was when you took it earlier, right?"

"Yeah," Darry replied, suddenly very concerned.

The doctor sat at the edge of Mia's bed, removing the covers to take a look at the girl. She looked thin and pale, with flushed cheeks.

"Mia," Dr. Wallace said kindly, gently, with a practiced bedside manner, "does it hurt anywhere?"

Mia nodded her head slowly, up and down, in affirmation. She brought her hands to her lower stomach, slowly rubbing them back and forth. Dr. Wallace, following the child's cue, pressed his fingers gently on her lower abdomen. She cried out in intense pain, tears beginning to stream down her face.

"Darrel?" Dr. Wallace asked, suddenly standing up, "could I use your phone."

"Of course," Darry replied. "It's in the kitchen."

"Thank you."

The Doc was gone for a few minutes before returning, looking worried.

"I just phoned my colleague, Dr. Gabriel. I told him about Mia and he has agreed to see her immediately." He took a notepad out of his bag and scribbled something unintelligible on it, handing it to Darry. "His office is in the hospital district."

"Doc, what's wrong with Mia?" Darry asked as Dr. Wallace began putting his things back into his bag.

"I..." Dr. Wallace opened his mouth and then shut it. "I really don't know. It could be anything. But I do know she needs medical attention beyond my capabilities. Just get her to Dr. Gabriel as soon as you can, okay?"

"All right." Darry nodded his head. "Thank you, Doc."

"Not a problem." He clasped Darry on the arm and gave him a curt nod. "I'll see myself out."

The doctor left the room, leaving Darry with Mia. He didn't bother putting Mia into clothes; he simply put her coat over nightgown, shoving his own shoes on before leaving the house, Mia in his arms, the note Dr. Wallace had written clutched in one hand.

XXX

Darry drove as fast as he dared to the hospital, Mia asleep next to him. He was worried, very worried, that his little sister was sick, broken beyond repair. His heart beat painfully in his chest. He only hoped this doctor knew what was wrong with her, could cure, right her back to her original state.

He parked the car, gathering Mia up in his arms. The chilly November air assaulted the two as Darry walked into the clinic area of the hospital, the pediatric section, trying to find Dr. Gabriel. After about five minutes of scanning the the doctor names in the waiting room without success, he finally approached a nurse.

"Excuse me," Darry said, Mia straddled to one hip as if she was a toddler. "I'm looking for Dr. Gabriel's office."

"Oh, we'll you're in the wrong place," remarked the nurse. She gave him some simple instructions.

"Thank you," Darry hastily replied, setting off. A few moments later, he entered the waiting area of Dr. Gary Gabriel. He awkwardly looked around the waiting room, surprised to see copious amounts of pregnant women, young ladies, older matrons. He was the only man in the room. It took him a moment to realize why that was.

Dr. Gary Gabriel was a gynecologist.


	9. Chapter 9

Dr. Gary Gabriel braced himself to walk into Amelia Curtis' room. Less than an hour ago, Dr. Wallace had called up, sounding slightly anxious.

"It's a botched abortion, I'm pretty sure," Dr. Wallace had said. "And if not, definitely something of a feminine nature."

Dr. Gabriel agreed to the see the young lady right away; a botched abortion, even a potential one, was nothing to be careless with.

He walked into the room and immediately was faced with the girl. She looked younger and smaller than Dr. Wallace had described, but just as ill. She was pale, shivering in the thin, cotton examination gown with her hair plastered to her face in a cold, sickly manner. Her hand was clutched tightly inside the gentle fist of a young man. Dr. Gabriel had seen many things before in his office, many oddly matched couples, but he was absolutely going to call the police if that man introduced himself as that child's boyfriend.

"Hello," Dr. Gabriel said pleasantly. He directed the greeting to the young man for the girl was too sick respond. "I'm Dr. Gabriel."

"Darrel Curtis," Darry replied with a nod. "Mia's brother."

Dr. Gabriel exhaled an inaudible sigh of relief. A boyfriend was bad, but a brother, especially an overprotective older one, was good.

"Well, Mr. Curtis," Dr. Gabriel said, picking up a clip board and clandestinely flipping through the papers, "I'm going to be asking some questions that a mother would probably...ah... be more equipped to answer."

"Our parents died about over a year ago," Darry explained. "I'm Mia's gaurdian. I can answer any question you might have about her."

"Okay." The doctor put down the clipboard to face the young man head on. "Has Amelia begun to menstruate yet?"

All of a sudden, Darry looked accutely embarrassed, crimson rising to his cheeks as he stared at the ground.

Well...um..." he stuttered. "Well... I don't quite know... the...uh... answer to that... that question."

"Any large amounts of unexplained blood on her clothing? Has she ever asked for feminine products?"

"No," Darry replied, thinking hard. "Nothing like that that I can remember."

"Okay." Dr. Gabriel picked up his clipboard and scribbled something else on it before looking up to ask the next question. "Is Amelia sexually active?"

"No," Darry said firmly, absolutely no hesitation in his voice at all. "Mia's a good kid; she doesn't do stuff like that."

"All right." He smiled at Darry before walking up to the ill girl, feeling her burning skin under his cool hands. He went up to one of the drawers in the room, extracting a syringe, shaking up the liquid inside. "This is something to reduce her fever," he explained as he slid the needle into Mia's arm. She didn't fuss much, only opening her eyes slightly before closing them again.

Dr. Gabriel slid white latex gloves on, grasping Mia's knees, gently prying them open. She had been passive, the sickness that raged inside of her body making her lethargic. But as the doctor touched her, she began to sit up, catching Dr. Gabriel's hands in her own.

"Please don't," she whimpered.

Dr. Gabriel relaxed his grip, walking towards the same drawer he had taken the fever reducer from, extracting another syringe.

"This is a mild sedative," he explained to Darry as he once again slid a needle into the sick girl's arms. She struggled to keep her eyes open for a moment before sliding into a delicate sleep.

With Mia fast asleep, Dr. Gabriel resumed the examination, sliding her knees a part. Immediately, he began looking for signs of a pregnancy, although if what the older brother said was true, then there was no way the child could be pregnant.

He saw right away that the prepubescent child had never in her life been pregnant. On the other, it was quite obvious to the doctor that she was not a virgin.

Darry watched the doctor with a sense of shame and embarrassment and concern. What was wrong with Mia that would recquire such an examination? She was just a little girl. He stood up and began to pace around the room as the doctor deftly took swipes with giant cotton swabs, carefully placing each in a speciment bag. After looking at Mia for several minutes, he stood up without warning, walking out of the room. He was gone for several minutes before returning with several nurses wheeling in a gurney.

"Mr. Curtis," he began, "my nurses are going to take care of Mia. In the mean time, I'd like to have a word with you in my office."

Darry's stomach began to twist and turn with fear. Without much speech, he followed the doctor through the long, thin corridors of the clinic to a small little room near the back with wood panneling on the walls. He took a seat at the doctor's invitation.

"Mr. Curtis," the doctor began, taking a seat himself. "I've diagnosed Amelia with an illness called pelvic inflammatory disease. Have you ever heard of it?"

"No." Darry shook his head.

"Well, basically, PID is an illness where the female reproductive organs become infected and swollen, causing severe pain and fever." The doctor paused for a moment.

"What causes it?" Darry asked.

"Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, PID is most commonly caused by a venereal disease."

"What?" Darry's eyes got huge as he lunged slightly forward in his chair. "Can it be caused by something else."

"Yes," Dr. Gabriel replied. "In rare cases, it develops among women for no reason. This is not true for Amelia's case, however."

"How do you know?"

"Vaginal scarring and tearing, mostly," the doctor explained. "Also, there are some bruises on the inside of her thighs. All of these signs are indicative of intercourse."

Darry could hardly believe his ears. He didn't want to believe it, he couldn't accept it.

"But, she's just a little kid." He clenched his hands together, folding them tightly in his lap. "Was she... was she...raped?" He whispered the last word, as if saying it too loud would make it true.

"If I had had to make an educated guess: yes, she was," Dr. Gabriel replied. "Most likely many times over the course of several months, just judging by the bruising patterns." He paused for a moment, looking Darry straight in the eye. "We can only speculate what happened; we won't know the full story until Amelia is well enough to tell us. But who else lives with you two?"

"My two brothers."

"Ages?"

"Ponyboy just turned fifteen and Soda'll be eighteen before long."

The doctor nodded his head, as if he expected to hear the words he just did.

"Most people," Dr. Gabriel began slowly, "women and children alike, are raped by people who are close to them." He paused, letting the words sink in. When they did, Darry's face turned red with disgust.

"You aren't suggesting..." Darry trailed off, unable to talk with the emotion, so raw unfamiliar, raging through him.

"The rapist could be anyone Amelia has contact with on a daily basis. How about friends of your brothers? Has she acted oddly around any of them?"

"No, not all," Darry replied hastily. Then, he remembered, less than a week ago, how Steve had tickled Mia only for the girl to scream for him to stop touching her. But it couldn't be Steve. He had grown up with the brothers, practically part of the family himself. He knew Mia like a sister, not some thing to be used then discarded.

"We'll just have to see then when Amelia gets better." Dr. Gabriel picked up some papers on his desk before setting them back down. "Anyway, there are some things you need to know associated with Amelia's condition."

"Like what?"

"PID leaves over half the women it affects infertile and nearly a third of them suffer from chronic and severe abdominal pain."

Darry's head bent as he heard the information. It was a lot to take in a relatively short amount of time. How could you come to terms with the fact that your little sister had been brutally and repeatedly raped? How could you tell a twelve year old girl that she might never have children?

"When will we know if Mia's all right?" Darry asked in a small voice.

"As long as it takes for her to heal. It really depends on the amount of scarring. I'm afraid Amelia has a particularly severe case. Due to her young age, I'm going to opt to have her admitted to the hospital to receive in patient care." Dr. Gabriel stood up and headed towards the door. Darry followed suit. "It's important we find out who did this to Amelia. Chances are, he's hurting another child and infecting her with a venereal disease." He opened the door and Darry began to walk out. "Of course, I'll be notifying the police."

Darry stopped in his tracks.

"What?" he asked, his voice even smaller than before.

"It's my duty as a doctor to notify the authorities when rape victims come into my office."

"Of course," Darry replied, nodding his head.

"Amelia is going to be asleep for quite some time. She's being admitted into the hospital as we speak. I'll have my nurse take you to the admittance office, where you can sign some papers, okay?"

"All right," Darry replied. He was pointed in the direction of a young, pretty nurse. Numbly, he followed her out of the clinic, down a hallway, up some stairs.

As he walked, he mentally thought of every, anyone who could have hurt Mia. He didn't even consider Pony and Soda, like the doctor had. They, liked Darry, loved Mia, wouldn't hurt for the world, not for anything. His mind kept on settling on Steve, although his heart told him otherwise. For a moment, he imagined Steve sneaking into the house in the middle of the night, going to Mia's room. It's not liked they locked the door or anything.

A new thought, even more grotesque than the one before, suddenly struck Darry. _They didn't lock their door_. Any creep off the street could have waltzed right in. He imagned the day he had woken up and saw Tim Shephard on his couch. He then imagined some guy, some stranger Darry had never seen before, strolling down the street, saying to anyone, everyone, "Hey, that house... yeah, that one, right on the corner of Sycamore and Saranac, you know it? A twelve year old little girl lives there. They never lock their doors. No parents either. She sleeps in the second room on the left."

He imagined a different stranger walking in every night, walking into Mia's room while he slept blissfully in the next room over. He imagined two, three, four strangers, every night. What if she had been gang raped, right under his roof, where she was supposed to be safe, Darry only a few feet away?

Darry began to weep in spite of himself. He couldn't help. Some monster had penetrated his little sister and extracted her innocence.

He hastily wiped away his tears as the nurse lead him to a little waiting area in the pediatric wing. Papers were flung into his hands, and he signed, worrying about Mia, about money. When he was done, he returned the papers, hoping he could see Mia.

"Sorry," a nurse said, shaking her head. "There's some people who want to talk to you first." She pointed to two men, clad in tweed suits. The police, Darry thought, his heart sinking. He just prayed to God that he didn't lose custody of his siblings.

XXX

"Mr. Curtis," the detective said. "Take a seat." He indicated to a chair, sitting down as his partner and Darry took a seat.

The detectives were two intimidating men. As far as muscle mass went, Darry won, but their demeanor was high and they seemed important, men on a mission.

"I'm Detective Conway and this is my partner, Detective Richardson. We're just going to ask you some questions about your little sister, okay?"

Darry nodded his head. He had wiped the tears away the best he could, but a fresh wave kept on coming, threatening to spill from his eyes. As he lost the battle against his own emotions, hot, salty tears streamed soundlessly down his face, wetting his stubbled jaw.

"Hey, buddy, it's going to be okay," Detective Conway said.

"No, it's not," Darry replied, his voice thick, husky, wavering. "Some bastard raped my little sister. I was supposed to be protecting her, and I failed. I failed her. Don't you get it? I failed her." He wiped his eyes on his hands before talking again. "You can find him right?"

"We're going to try our best," Detective Conway said. "In the meantime, we're going to need you to give us a urine sample."

"A urine sample?" Darry asked through his confusion. "Why?"

"We need to test you for chlamydia," Detective Conway replied simply.

"No," Darry said firmly, his voice reverberating through the waiting room. "No! Ya'll can't even think that I would... you guys are sick. I would never.. I could never."

"Listen, buddy," Detective Richardson, speaking up for the first time. His tone was accusatory, violent in nature. "No innocent man would so adamantly deny a simple test. Trying to tell us something with your behavior, Curtis?"

"No!" Darry screamed, bringing his fist down hard against the wooden arm rest of the seat. "I'll do the test. I'm just... it's sick that you would even think that I could do such a thing."

"It's all right," Detective Conway said, standing up. "We just need to rule out every person we can so we can find the person who did hurt your sister as quickly as we can."

Darry nodded his head, but it didn't make anything any easier.

XXX

An hour later, Darry's sample came back negative and he was allowed into Mia's room. He slowly walked in. Mia looked so small in her bed. Her back was turned, her face hidden.

A year ago, when Pony ran off with Johnny, he felt so bad. He had cried every night that Pony was missing. He blamed the whole thing on himself. If he hadn't shouted at Pony, hadn't hit him, then he would have never left the house that night. Johnny would have never killed that kid. And Johnny and Dallas would still be alive.

He wished desperately that his parents were still alive. His father was kind and gentle. At the same time, he burned with a passion to protect his kids. He never would have allowed Mia to be hurt the way she was. Darry imagined the way he held the little girl, the way he kissed the top of her head and tickled her stomach. If he saw Mia crying the way she had so many times, he would have pulled her on to his lap.

"Mia bear, what's the matter, baby?" he would have said, wiping Mia's tears away. "Come on, you can tell daddy."

Mia might have said nothing, but at the same time, she might have said everything. Darry was not his father. That fact was evident every day. He did not have his father's patience nor his gentleness. They did have one thing in common, though, and that was their love for their family, their need to protect everyone that lay close to their hears. His father succeeded in the that goal. Darry, on the other hand, failed.

"Oh," a soft moan emitted from Mia's lips. She shifted softly, but she did not turn to face her older brother.

"Mia," Darry whispered, suddenly not sure what to say. "Honey, how are you feeling?"

Mia said nothing. A few moments passed, and then Darry heard it: soft sobs.

"Please, don't cry," Darry said, his own tears falling down his face. He touched her back, and was surprised when she recoiled. "Who did this to you?"

Mia said nothing. She couldn't, couldn't face her brother. She felt so ashamed, so dirty in her own skin. She could only imagine how disappointed Darry must be in her. She didn't want to look even look at him. He must know by now that she had chlamydia, had felt the touch of an evil man. She wanted to die and hoped that whatever disease Mr. Crane put inside her killed her.

No, that wasn't right; she _prayed _it killed her.


	10. Chapter 10

Soda had the hood popped on a Mustang, searching for the something that was wrong with it. He highly suspected it was the fuel pump, and if that was the case, the car was as good as totaled. Man, if that was the case, his customer was going to be pissed.

"Hey, Soda," a voice interrupted his work. He looked up to see Darry, looking tired.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked, wiping grease from his hands.

"When do you get off?" Darry asked, bypassing the greeting.

Soda squinted his eyes at the clock on the wall. It was about half past three.

"I don't get off for another two hours. Why?"

"It's Mia. She's in the hospital."

Soda could feel his heart skip.

"What's wrong with her?" Soda's voice was husky and thick. "I mean, is she all right?"

"Is there anyone who could cover for you?" Darry asked.

"It's a slow day," Soda said, nodding his head. "My boss is here. Let me see if he'd be okay letting me go home a little early. He's a good guy. He should understand."

Soda disappeared behind a door in the back of the garage before returning a few moments later.

"He gave me the rest of the day off," Soda said, slamming the hood of the car down. "Mr. Mustang here won't be here until next Thursday to pick his car up. Let's go."

Together, they walked to the truck, got in.

"What's wrong with Mia?" Soda asked as they drove off.

"We need to pick Pony up first," Darry said. "I need to have a chat with both of you at the same time."

"Darry?" Soda had a bitter taste in his mouth. His older brother looked tense, his eyes swollen. It occurred to him, with horror, that Darry had been crying. "Is Mia going to be all right?"

"I'm not sure, Soda," Darry replied. They pulled up to the high school. Ponyboy was outside in the cool, crisp autumn air, running round and round track. Darry left Soda in the car, heading towards the field.

When Pony saw Darry walking towards him, somersaults began flipping wildly in his stomach.

"Come on, Pony," Darry said with a beckoning hand motion. "We gotta go."

Pony, still in his sweats, didn't even have a chance to change back into his street clothes or to grab his books before following Darry back to the truck.

"Darry what's going?" Pony asked when he saw Soda in the truck.

"It's Mia. She's in the hospital."

"What's wrong?"

"Get in the truck," was all Darry said. "We're going to the hospital to have a quiet conversation. There's something we need to talk about."

Pony, like Soda, began to get very nervous. Was Mia dying? The way Darry was talking, that seemed highly likely.

XXX

Twenty minutes later, the three brothers sat in the nearly empty cafeteria in the hospital. Darry had refused to give his brothers any information on the way over, saying he wanted a nice, quiet place to reveal that news.

"What's wrong with Mia?" Soda asked nervously, hardly containing his anxiety as they all sat.

Darry turned to look at each of his brothers, staring each of them in the eyes.

"Mia," he began, "has chlamydia."

There was confusion etched on both of their faces.

"You must be mistaken," Pony said with a slight shake of his head. "Chladmydia is a sexually transmitted disease."

"Yes," Darry replied. "I know."

"But," Soda began, "Mia's just a little kid."

Darry heaved a large, tired sigh.

"She was examined this morning by a gyencologist. According to him, Mia was raped." Darry tried his best to keep his voice from cracking on the last word, but couldn't, and tears began to leak down his face. "Not once, dozens of times over several months. It probably started right after she came home from Aunt Margaret's."

Pony and Soda could not believe the words they heard. It just didn't make sense. Why would anybody hurt Mia? Who could hurt her?

"There must be a mistake," Soda said, this throat dry.

Darry just shook his head sadly.

"The Doc said there was... evidence around and in her body of trauma."

With trembling hands, Pony brought his face to his hands. Soda and his younger brother fought to keep the tears at bay.

"Who?" Soda asked, his body shaking as his fought off rage and tears at the same time. "Who did this to Mia?"

"We don't know," Darry replied with a tired shrug. "Mia's really sick. She won't be able to tell us until she gets better."

For a moment, all three of the brothers sat in silence, digesting the knews. It seemed surreal to all of them. How could this be real? They knew of the socs, who liked to beat up greasers for fun. But that was different. At least the socs chose people who matched their size, their abilities and ages. They didn't brutally rape little girls. Who ever did this was a real monster.

"Can we see her?" Pony asked after several moments.

"They won't let you," Darry said, staring somewhere off in the distance. "Not until you take a chlamydia test."

The younger boys looked at their brothers with blank faces before the words sunk in.

"You can't think..." Pony began, but broke off midsentence, disgusted at even the thought.

"I don't think you did it," Darry replied hastily, rubbing his face with his left hand. "I had to take a chlamydia test. It's just... standard procedure."

"Standard procedure to accuse a girl's own brothers of raping her?" Soda spat with venom in his voice.

"You got understand, buddy, they don't want the person who hurt Mia just strolling in there. Honestly, I'm glad they're doing this. What if they do catch the person who hurt Mia this way?"

Soda and Pony said nothing for a very long time. Finally, Pony spoke up.

"How can take the test? I want to see Mia."

Soda nodded his head, agreeing as well.

"We should be up there with her."

Darry stood up, leading his brothers to the pediatric unit.

XXX

Physicall, Mia was feeling only slightly better. Emotionally, though, she was a wreck. All throughtout the past few months, she had felt that as long as she kept what Mr. Crane was doing to her secret, it would be all right.

Now that Darry knew, he would undoubtably tell Pony and Soda and they would look upon her with digust and resentment.

She knew right then that she would never be able to look them in the eye again, much less talk to them. She could just imagine the conlusions they'd make about her: the abuse went on for months. Why didn't she try to stop it? Was she too weak? Did she like it?

Those would only be a few questions they'd want her to answer. But she couldn't talk about; she just simply couldn't. Shame and embarrassment flogged her down.

"Ah," Mia cried as an intense wave of pain hit her abdomen. She considered the IV in her arm, hoping that the liquid coursing through her veins would quiet the pain.

A person walked through the door. Mia, facing away from the door, didn't see who it was. She just hoped it wasn't one of her brothers; she desperately did not want to talk to them, see them.

"Are you all right, sweetie?" a voice asked.

Surprised, Mia turned around to see a nurse. She was young and pretty and looked like the type who would find work as a pediatric nurse rewarding.

"It hurts," Mia whispered through her pain.

The nurse nodded, extracting a needle from drawer. She put the medication in Mia's IV. Slowly, the pain subsided and the girl fell into a deep, restless sleep.

XXX

By the time Soda's and Pony's chlamydia tests came back negative, the sun had dipped below the horizon. All three boys were extremely fatigued, hungry, but none wanted to go anywhere. All they wanted to see was their little sister, to finally protect her the way they hadn't in the past.

"She's probably sleeping," Darry warned before they entered. "Be quiet and try not to say too much."

The two younger boys nodded, and together, the three brothers walked in. The room was dark, the curtains drawn tight. Mia laid in the bed, so small, with an IV coming out of her arm.

"Mia?" Soda asked. He had agony in his voice, a tear or two slipping down his cheek. He had prepared himself to see his sister, but he hadn't expected the emotion to hit him so hard. His sister had been _raped _and where had he been? The shame, the guilt, it began to eat his insides.

"How're you feeling?" Pony whispered, walking towards the bed. He reached out to touch her, but she jumped back.

"Please, go away," she said, her voice small, barely more than whisper.

They couldn't see her face; she had herself turned away from the door, trying to hide herself, her secret, her soul, from her brothers.

"Mia, we just want to help you." Soda choked back a sob.

"I just want to be left alone. I'm very tired."

There were two chairs in the room. Soda took one, Pony the other.

"Pony and I are going to stay here with you," Soda said. "We don't have to talk, but we're just gonna sit here, okay?"

Mia said nothing, just gave her thin shoulders a half way shrug.

"Hey, Darry?" Soda asked softly, turning to his brother. "You've been with Mia all day. Why don't you go home and let me and Pony take care of her for a bit, okay?"

Darry began to argue, but then a thought suddenly struck him.

"Okay. Call me right away if something happens or you need me or if the Detectives need me or anything, you hear?"

"We got it, Darry," Pony said, leading his older brother to the door. "Get some rest. You hear?"

Darry smiled softly at his youngest brother before leaving the hospital room, walking down the long, white corridors of the pediatric ward.

XXX

Steve Randle was at home after a long day of school, then work. He had been very surprised when he went to the gas station and found that Soda had gone home early. Boss had said his sister was in the hospital. That worried Steve. What could possibly be wrong with Mia?

It was past ten in the evening. Steve had just gotten out of the shower, toweling his dark, curly hair off, contemplating going to sleep. His old man had went to work at his night job about an hour ago, and he was looking forward to having the whole house to himself, to having a nice, restful, peaceful night's rest.

He dressed in a clean pair of boxer shorts and a soft cotton shirt and was halfway in the bed when he heard it: the knocks on the door.

Who could it be? Usually no one called, especially this late. Drowsy from his hard day, he walked to the door, cursing as he stubbed his toe on a misplaced boot. Opening the door, he was surprised to see his best buddy's brother, Darrel Curtis.

"Darry?" Steve asked, incredulous. "What's going on?"

"Hey, Steve," Darry said in a low, cool voice. It reminded Steve of something, and it took him a moment to remember; Darry sounded exactly like Dallas Winston in a dangerous mood. "Get dressed. We're going for a ride."

"I heard Mia's in the hospital. Is she all right?" Steve asked, his concern authentic.

"How would you know that?" Darry snapped, slamming his hand on the door frame. "I've been with Soda all afternoon and he hasn't even touched a phone."

"My boss told me," Steve replied defensively. "Darry, what's going on."

"Get dressed, Steve," Darry repeated himself. "We're going for a ride."

Steve was scared. He had seen Darry worked up, passionate about rumbles or fights or something. But he had never seen the eldest Curtis quite like this before. Nonplussed, Steve nodded his head.

"Okay, Darry. Just give me a moment."

He kept the door open, disappearing into his bedroom. If this was anyone else, he would have slammed the door or at least punch the fellow in the face. This was Darrel Curtis, though, practically a brother. Steve jammed himself into his clothes, pulling on jeans, a long sleeved shirt, his jacket, his canvas sneakers before running back to the door.

"Are you going to tell me what this is about?" Steve asked as he closed the door, walking towards the truck.

"I don't know, Steve," Darry replied, still in his cold vernacular. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Darry, I don't know." Steve threw his hands up. Darry opened the door for Steve, and the teenager climbed in the car, the door slamming shut behind him. Darry took his place in the driver's seat, driving off.

"Darry?" Steve asked carefully, afraid a small mistep might set the man off. "Is everything all right? How is Mia? Is she okay?" He vividly remembered how when Johnny died, Dallas went off the deep end. What if Mia died and this was Darry's descent into his own death? What if this was a suicide mission and Darry was taking Steve with him?

Darry didn't say anything; they just drove and drove and drove, Darry constantly accelerating rhe car, going faster and faster and faster. They were just past the Tulsa city limits, on a quiet country road, pitch black in the autumn night, when Darry pulled over and killed the engine.

"Steve, do you know what's wrong with Mia?" Darry asked, the cool venom thick in his voice. "Do you know why she's so sick?"

"I have no clue. Is she all right?"

"She'll live, if that's what you mean."

Steve released a sigh of relief he had not realized he had been holding.

"That's good," Steve commented. "Why did you bring me out here?"

"Do you have chlamydia, Steve?" Darry asked, ignoring Steve's question.

"What?" The teenager shook his head, sure he had heard wrong. "What did you say? Do I have what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Randle. You heard me right; do you or do you not have chlamydia?"

"I do not. Why are asking?"

All of a sudden, Darry's tough front faded. His shoulders drooped and his head dropped to the stearing wheel. Steve had never before seen Darry cry, but with horror, the teenager watched as tears began to slide down the man's face, disappearing in a thick forest of stubble.

"Mia... Mia has chlamydia," Darry sobbed.

It took a few moments for Steve to realize all the implications of Darry's words.

"Oh God," Steve uttered, cursing under his breath. And then, a new thought struck him. "Darry, you don't think I..." He trailed off, unable to complete the thought.

"When you were tickling her on Thanksgiving, she screamed at you to stop touching her. And then today, the doc gave me the news. What else was I supposed to think?"

Steve nodded, and for a moment, he tried to imagine himself in Darry's spot. Steve quickly decided that Darry was being down right cordial compared to how he would act in the same situation.

"I never... I would never... I could never hurt Mia," Steve said softly.

"I know," Darry replied. He knew all along it wasn't Steve. If felt good, just for a moment, to have a scapegoat, somehow to blame for the horrid atrocity that had taken place. "I would feel more comfortable if we could test you for chlamydia."

Steve felt like decking Darry for that comment, but, instead, he simply nodded.

"Of course, Darry. Anything for you. You're like a brother, man."

Darry gave a friendly look towards Steve before starting the car, heading towards the hospital.

"Thanks, Steve. And I'm sorry about this. It's just... I don't know what to do."

"I can't even imagine what this is like." Steve returned Darry's gaze. "Anything, you need, man."

Drying his tears, Darry tousled Steve's hair as if he was one of his brothers.

XXX

Mr. Crane sat in his room, contemplating the day. Mia hadn't shown up for school, but that was hardly surprising. She had been so sick the day before. He had grown curious over her condition, and, after school, had driven to a clinic a town over. He was hardly surprised when his test for chlamydia came back positive; he had slept with some pretty strange people in the last few months.

Oh well. A few doses of his antibiotic and he would be rid of the disease in less than twenty-four hours. Or, he would, at least, be rid of it enough to test negative for a chlamydia test.

With that little fact clearing his conscience, Mr. Gregory Crane climbed into bed and fell into a restful sleep filled with dreams of little girls who looked like Mia.


	11. Chapter 11

**I wanted to take this opportunity to thank all of you for reading my story and submitting all these wonderful reviews! I also wanted to apologize for taking this long to update. I could give you a long, drawn out excuse, but instead I'll just tell you the truth: I died, spent the night in limbo, went to my own memorial service and was resurrected for the sole purpose of finishing this story. I mean my words in the most literal way possible. Enjoy the chapter! I have a feeling you will. **

Steve awkwardly sat in the pediatric unit of the hospital. He felt vulnerable without grease in his hair, too large and clumsy in the small chair in the waiting room, out of place. A nurse had just announced to him that his chlamydia test was, as he and everyone else predicated, negative. Now, he was just waiting for Darry or Soda or someone to drive him home. Already past midnight, he felt exhausted, his body giving out under the exertion of the day. In less than six hours, he would need to wake up, to begin his monotonous, tiresome day all over again. His body ached at just the thought.

But then he thought of Mia, and he visibly shuttered. He could not imagine for even a moment that someone could do such a thing to a little girl. He wondered who did it, and as he did, a wave of unexpected anger erupted in his heart. Suddenly, he understood Darry's actions with an unprecedented clarity. He himself wanted to find, torture, kill the person who did this.

XXX

Soda and Pony sat in the dark hospital, unmoving, as still as their little sister, who slept so sad and hopeless in the hospital bed. She hadn't spoken a word to either of them, even when she did awake. The two boys were highly concerned, but they were also angry and sad and confused. A whole mixture of emotions ravished their bodies

A burst of bright light woke Pony and Soda from their thoughts. In the doorway stood Darry, looking even more tired than before.

"Hey," Darry whispered, walking up to Mia's bed. "How is she?"

"She fell asleep," Soda whispered back, yawning as he stretched his arms out. "I thought I told you to get some rest."

"I had some business to take care of." Darry shrugged and considered his little sister, so small and fragile in the bed. The blankets were pulled up to her chin, her hair in little ringlets around her face, her arm with the IV hanging limply over the side. With a gentle hand, he smoothed her brow and kissed her forehead. She stirred slightly, moaning a bit in her sleep, before sliding back into the cool throws of unconsciousness.

"Where were you?" Pony asked.

For a moment, Darry ignored the question, this time taking Mia's hand and sliding it into his own. The hand was so small in his large ones, the fingers so little, so small. She was still a child with a very grown up problem. A tear slid down his cheek, landing softly on Mia's skin.

"Steve," he replied, his voice thick with tears, "Steve's negative for chlamydia."

Pony and Soda were very quiet for a moment before Soda began to speak.

"Is Steve here?" the middle Curtis asked.

"Yeah." Darry nodded his head. "I just wanted to know if... I was just curious, okay?"

"Well, you couldn't have honestly thought--" Soda began, but Darry cut him off.

"I didn't think it was really him, all right!" Darry said, his voice rising in volume until it was nearly a shout. "I just needed... needed to know."

Mia's eyes blinked open at the sound of her eldest brother's angry voice. Darry was horrified to see the tears begin to slide down Mia's face. Thick and fast, they rocketed down, and more and more and more came, making the child shake slightly, whimpers coming from her mouth.

"Look what you did!" Pony cried, jumping up, throwing his body between Mia and Darry. "If you're gonna fight, do it outside."

Everyone was surprised. Usually, it was Soda breaking up the fights between Darry and Pony. For a moment, everyone was quiet, the only sounds Mia's sobs, which continued to grow in volume until they were cries of anguish.

"Mia," Darry whispered, smoothing Mia's brow again, rubbing his hand over her forehead in what he hoped was a soothing motion. "I'm real sorry, Mia and so is Soda. We just want to know who did this to you. Shhh... it's okay. You can me."

Mia brought a sleepy hand up to her face, wiping the tears away with her little fist.

"You said Steve was here?" she hiccupped.

"Yeah. He's right outside in the waiting room."

"Can I talk to him?" she asked. "Alone?"

XXX

Steve was just about asleep in his chair when a hand grasping his shoulder startled him.

"Steve," Darry's deep voice said in a coarse whisper. "Mia wants to see you."

Steve was surprised. He wasn't exactly very close to the child, but he knew her all right. He stumbled to his feet, feeling slightly off balance from the sleep. He felt drunk as he followed Darry to Mia's room. As he entered the dark room, he was surprised to see Pony and Soda get up and leave. He gave a questioning look to Darry, we stood in the doorway, not entering the room himself.

"She wanted to speak to you alone," Darry explained. "I don't know why. That's just what she wanted."

Although the request was odd, Darry could not deny her. Out all the things he couldn't give her or give back to her, this was the one thing he could. Steve nodded, shutting the door behind him. When Mia saw Steve entering the room, she sat up, struggling against the weight of her body, propping herself up on pillows. She turned on the lamp besides her, and her eyes squinted in the light.

"Hey, Mia," Steve said softly, not quite sure what to say the girl. After all, what do you say to a child that went through what Mia went through? "How are you feeling?"

Mia hardly considered the question before discounting it. She looked Steve up and down, expecting the cocky teenager with too much grease in his hair. All she saw, though, was a tired boy with bags under his eyes.

"Steve?" Mia asked, her voice surprisingly steady. "When did your dad start beating you?"

The question startled Steve, although it did not surprise him. Yes, he dad beat him. But he had hidden that fact the best he could from the teachers at school, his friends, coworkers, anyone who knew him. He couldn't let anyone know about that. They would think him weak. Why didn't he just runaway from home? Why didn't he just fight back? Steve couldn't say that the reason he stayed was because he wanted to finish school and leaving home would mean he would beed to drop out support himself. He coudn't fight back because his dad was fifty pounds heavier and four inches taller than him. No one knew, not even Soda. Everyone knew that that he and his dad hated each other. But no one knew of the abuse.

"I was seven," Steve replied. "How do you know? Who told you?"

For a moment, Mia felt so close to Steve, it made her heart ache. Here was another person, another soul, who knew what it was like to be hurt by another person, but couldn't speak of it due to shame.

Mia thought of the moment she knew of Steve's situation. It had been before her parents had died. In the middle of the night, she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, but she heard a noise in the living room. It was Steve. He had his shirt off, and he was gingerly touching his rub cage, which was peppered with bruises. Steve hadn't seen Mia; she stood in the dark doorway, unmoving, not speaking. She never told Steve what she saw, but she did look closely for bruises after that. And she found them and attributed them to their proper source when others thought they were from playing football or work.

"How come you don't tell anyone?" Mia asked, continuing as if Steve hadn't spoke. "You know how much help you could receive if you just told someone?"

"How about you, Mia?" Steve replied. "Why didn't tell someone sooner?"

Mia shook her head.

"It's not the same thing, Steve."

"Oh, but isn't?"

XXX

Ten minutes later, Steve sat in next to Soda in the truck. They sat in silence for a few moments, both exhausted, before Soda broke the silence.

"What did Mia want?" Soda asked, looking to Steve expectantly.

"Nothing really," Steve replied with a shrug.

"Well, did she talk you?"

"Yeah."

"What did she say?"

Steve took a deep breath. He remembered Mia's words about getting help. Steve didn't need help, though. He just had to hang on till June. Then, he would graduate and move out. He didn't need to tell anyone. But it would feel really nice to expel this secret, the secret that ate at his insides and kept him awake at night.

"Mia," Steve began, unsure how to continue. "She knows things others don't."

"Like what?"

Steve considered his words carefully.

"Soda, you know about me and my dad, right?"

"That he's a total asshole? Yeah, I know that. What about it?"

"Nothing." Steve shook his head. "Nevermind."

They were at Steve's house now, and he got out of the car.

"I'm sorry about Mia," Steve said. "I hope you catch the bastard who did this to her."

He closed the door to the car and Soda watched as his best friend walked into his house.

XXX

It was six in the morning at the Curtis house. Darry and Soda woke up to the quiet house, the lack of sound disconcerting. Late last night, Pony had volunteered to stay the night with Mia, pushing Soda and Darry to the door to get home, to get to sleep, so that they could get to work in the morning.

"It feels weird," Soda said as he popped two pieces of the bread in the toast. It didn't seem quite right to eat chocolate cake.

"Yeah, it does," Darry agreed. "Hey, let's go the hospital and see Mia real quick before work. We have enough time."

Soda opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn't come up with any good reason not to, so he nodded his head.

"All right." His bread popped out of the toaster, a deep, rich brown. But he ignored it as he shoved his shoes on his feet and gathered his old jacket around his shoulders. "Let's go."

A few minutes, they were at the hospital. In the waiting room, the spotted Pony, sitting in one of the chairs.

"What's going on?" Darry asked when he saw his youngest brother. "How's Mia? Did something happen?"

"The detectives wanted to talk to her," Pony explained. "They questioned me out here. They wanted to talk to Mia alone."

"Can they legally do that?" Soda pondered out loud. "I mean, since you and Mia are just kids, can they legally question ya'll without your guardian present?"

"Yeah," Pony replied. "Since we're not suspects, it's perfectly legal."

Just then, the door to Mia's room opened and out stepped the two detectives, both looking vexed and pensive at the same time. When they spotted the three boys, they walked up to them, their strides calculated, purposeful.

"Did Mia say anything?" Darry asked before the detectives could even open their mouths.

"No," Detective Conway replied. "Not even a word. She cried, but she didn't say anything." The detective looked all three boys in the eyes before speaking. "I'm going to ask this again. Do any of you have any idea who might have done this? Anyone she acts differently around?"

The brothers sat in silence for a moment, but none of them could think of anyone in particular.

"Think of everyone," Detective Coonway continued.

All of a sudden, everyone Mia had contact with became a suspect: Two-Bit, Mia's math teacher, Mr. Wilson, Ron McDaniels, the next door neighbor, Mr. Crane, Mia's piano teacher, Philip Hanna, the librarian at the public library Mia often frequented.

"Honestly, I don't know," Soda shrugged. "We can give you a list of men Mia regularly spends time with. Point to any name on the list and that person could be it. Your guess is as good as ours."

Pony and Darry nodded in agreement to Soda's words.

"Work on that list," Detective Conway said with a curt nod. "We'll find the man who hurt Mia. Don't ya'll worry."

The two detectives left, leaving the three boys to tend to their little sister.

XXX

The next day, the doctor announced that Mia was finally well enough to go home. The doctor gave Darry a myriad of medicine to give to Mia and a referal to a pyschiatrist.

"A pyschiatrist?" Darry had asked, slightly confused.

"Yes," the doctor replied. "As you can imagine, Mia is deeply... disturbed by everything she's been through. Maybe you'll even get some answers out of her."

Darry nodded, but he thought of everything he and his brothers had gone through. When their parents died, Pony had had night terrors and hadn't needed a pyschiatrist. When Johnny and Dallas died, they were all deeply perturbed, yet they were all able to work their emotions out between themselves. But this, Darry supposed, was probably different.

"We'll give it a try," Darry replied.

"Wait a week or two until she's all better physically. Then, she can begin to heal emotionally."

Mia sat in the car next to Darry. Soda was at work and Pony was at school. She looked thin and tired. But she was out of bed for the first time since she got sick. She was still in immense pain, though, and the doctor warned that it could be months before she was really back to normal. The infection was no longer life threatening, though, and Mia was out of immediate danger.

"How're you doing?" Darry asked for probably the tenth time that day. They were halfway home and Mia hadn't said very much. In fact, she might have spoken ten words the entire week.

"I'm missing a lot of school," Mia commented, her voice flat, expressionless. She looked out the window, not daring to look her brother in the eye.

"You've been really sick," Darry replied, turning to Mia with a smile. "Everyone at school understands. I'll even pick up the work you missed so you won't fall behind."

"Can I go back tomorrow?" Her voice was small, but expectant, turning away from the window, looking towards Darry with wide eyes.

"The doctor said for you to rest for a couple weeks."

"I'm missing everything, though. I'll become stupid."

"You're really smart, Mia. You're not gonna go dumb just because you miss a little school."

Mia said nothing. They were home now, and Mia longed to be in her bed. She was in pain still, waves of agony coursing through her abdomen. But she had pain pills to take every few hours.

Darry helped her into the house. She had taken the initiative to get dressed before leaving the hospital, but she longed to get into bed. She went to her room, dressed in her familiar, comfortable flannel nightgown and got into bed. Now all she wanted was a pain pill and a few hour's sleep.

"Hey kiddo." Darry stood in the doorway. "How're you doing?"

Mia shrugged.

"Can I have a pain pill, please?"

Darry nodded and left. He returned a few moments later with a largr white pill in one , hhand and a glass of water in the other. She swollowed the pill with her water, hoping it would throw her into the wonderful, painless bliss she had come to rely on.

"You hungry?" Darry asked. "I could make you some mushroom soup."

"No." Mia shook her head. She hadn't eaten much in the last few days and her poor, emaciated body showed it.

"You have to eat something," Darry replied. "I could make you anything you want. Just name it."

"Mushroom soup is okay."

Darry smiled and left to prepare the meal. By the time he came back with a steaming bowl of soup, Mia was asleep. He placed the food on her nightstand, kissing her forehead before leaving.

XXX

The next day was the real challenge for the Curtis family. The brothers wanted someone at home at all times to watch Mia, but the schedule just didn't work out. Darry and Soda had both missed so much work; neither could possibly take another day. So they each compromised. Darry agreed to go in late and Soda decided to leave early. Still, that meant that there was about an hour's gap where Mia would be left alone. No one was happy about leaving Mia alone even for that brief amount of time, but they felt as if there was no other option.

Now, Darry stood, ready for work. Mia had taken her place on the couch to watch the programming on TV. There really was nothing good on weekdays, but it was better than lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Gonna be okay?" Darry asked, pausing by the couch on the way to the door.

"I'll be fine, really." Mia replied.

"Soda'll be home real soon, okay?"

"All right."

Darry gave Mia a kiss on the forehead before walking towards the door.

"I love you, Mia."

"Love you too."

With that, Darry opened the door and left, leaving Mia all by herself.

XXX

Mr. Gregory Crane sat parked about three houses down from the Curtis residence. He had been waiting all morning for the eldest Curtis to leave. Now, he was gone. Mia was home alone. Mr. Crane smiled to himself.

He got out of his car and began to walk to the Curtis' house. He knew for a fact that Mia hadn't told on him yet. If that were the case, he'd be behind bars. A pair of detectives, two brutes with large egos, had actually approached Mr. Crane. They had also approached Bryan Wilson, a colleague and fellow teacher of Mr. Crane's. It was only routine, they had explained, and a quick, painless test would rule them out as suspects. Both Mr. Wilson and Mr. Crane readily supplied urine samples. Now, they were both ruled out and the detectives wouldn't even give them a second thought.

Mr. Crane smiled again. He stood before the house now, on the rickety porch. He pushed the door open and there was Mia, lying so hopelessly on the couch.

"Mia," Mr. Crane purred. "It seems like it's been forever since our last engagement. How I've missed you, my sweet."

Mia wanted to run. She wanted to hide, to scream. But fear paralyzed her to her spot, froze her vocal chords.

"I heard your brothers know a little bit about our little love affair," Mr. Crane continued. "I know for a fact that they don't know it's me." Mr. Crane disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a long kitchen knife. "But you see, Mia, one day, one day probably soon, you'll get up the nerve to tell your brothers, and where will I be, hmm?"

He approached Mia, holding the knife out so he caught some of the light leaking through the curtains onto the blade, glinting in the sparse light.

"It won't hurt, my love, I promise," he whispered into her ear before positioning the knife over her heart. "Just one quick stab and it'll be over. No more pain or suffering. You'll get to return to your parents. You'll be happier this way."

Still paralyzed with fear, Mia uttered a cry of pain as the tip of the knife began to penetrate through her nightgown, a small orb of blood erupting around the metal.

XXX

Soda walked home from the gas station. Darry had the truck, so he had no other choice. The good part was that he had gotten off of work earlier than expected. In fact, if he had to guess, Mia was probably only alone for a few minutes. He was home now, and he opened up the door to the house.

What saw made him want to vomit.

Mr. Crane stood over Mia, a knife in his hand. There was blood on Mia's nightgown.

"You!" Soda shouted, charging towards the man. It suddenly became so clear to Soda; this was Mia's attacker, her abuser, the person who had nearly killed her.

Mr. Crane dropped the knife, startled, and it clattered to the floor with a sickening thud. Soda couldn't help himself. He used the other man's surprise to his own advantage, swinging his fist into the opposite's stomach.

Mr. Crane gasped in surprise and pain, but his reflexes were good and he threw a punch, hitting Soda squarely in the jaw. The younger of the two could taste blood in his mouth. He didn't stop to inspect the damage, though, before throwing a torrent of punches at Mr. Crane, each one hitting its target in new and terrible ways. Mr. Crane was older, but Soda was bigger, stronger, and had more experience fighting than the older one.

Soda threw a final punch and Mr. Crane fell onto the floor, doubled up in pain. It was nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the pain he had put Mia and all three of the brothers through, though. This fact stood out clearly in Soda's mind. In the background, he became faintly aware of screaming. It could have belonged to Mia or Mr. Crane or even himself. It didn't matter. He began to kick the man, kick him repeatedly in the stomach, in the head chest and groin. But that didn't cause enough pain.

He lost control of his body, something, not himself, grasping the knife. Sometime, still not himself, pushed the knife again and again and again, deeper and deeper and deeper, into Mr. Crane's body.

He suddenly became aware of a piercing scream. Breathing hard, he stood up, clutching the knife tightly in his hand. His eyes were unfocued, staring at an unknown object without seeing it.

"Soda!" a voice screamed. Suddenly, he caught up with reality.

There was blood everyone, seeped into the floor, spattered on the walls, all over his hands, his clothes. He looked towards Mia. She was covered in blood as well. In horror, Soda realized that not all of it belonged to Mr. Crane. The little circle in the middle of her chest began to grow and grow.

Soda could runaway, like Johnny did when he killed that soc. But by doing that, he would put his little sister's life in jeopordy. He had to call. Calmly, he walked to the phone, dialed three digits.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" a pleasant female voice asked.

"My sister was attacked. I killed her rapist."

XXX

Soda sat in the police station. The police had handcuffed him, sat him in the a cruiser, taken him downtown. He did not know if Mia was okay or not. He kept on asking, but no one would answer him. Finally, a man, Detective Conway, his mind told him, walked up to him.

"How's Mia?" Soda asked before the detective could even open his mouth.

"She sustained superficial wounds," he replied. "She'll be all right. You saved her life."

Soda nodded his head, breathing a sigh of relief. In that moment, he felt as if he had traded his life for Mia's.

"I don't care if you put me in the electric chair. I wouldn't change what I did for the world. I finally was able to protect my sister."

In response, Detective Conway took a set of keys out of his pocket and undid Soda's handcuffs, setting the teenager free.

"The electric chair?" Detective Conway asked. "I'd sooner give you a metal."

"You would?" Soda asked, confused. "I just killed a man, Mr. Gregory Crane."

The detective shook his head.

"You're mistaken."

"But I saw him. His eyes were glassy and he wasn't breathing. He was dead. I'm sure."

The detective smiled.

"You killed him all right, but his name wasn't Gregory Crane. His name was Jeffery Gunthrie and he was wanted in Texas for raping and murdering his own sister."

Soda could only stare blankly in response.


	12. Chapter 12

Darry received the news when a police cruiser pulled into the construction site. He was placing tiles on the roof of a new elementary school when his boss waved him down. Darry could feel his whole body begin to shake with fear when he saw the uniformed police officer. It was such a person who had delivered the news about his parents death.

"Darrel Curtis?" the police officer asked when he saw Darry approaching. "You're wanted down at the station."

Many things began running through Darry's mind. Was everybody all right? Did somebody get hurt?

"Why?" Darry asked.

"I'll explain when we get there."

Darry nodded.

"Is it all right if I follow you to the station in my truck?"

"Yeah," the police officer shrugged. "You're not being arrested or anything."

Well, Darry thought sardonically, that's a relief.

Twenty minutes later, Darry pulled into the station behind the police cruiser. He didn't wait for the officer to walk into the station. Through the doors, the heat of a space heater greating him, the first thing he saw was Soda, sitting in a chair with a shell shocked expression, blood splattered all over him, his face, soaked into his clothing, drying in his honey colored hair.

"My God," Darry swore under his breath as he approached his brother. "Soda, what happened."

Soda looked towards Darry, his eyes still wide. His hands shook, and he rubbed them up and down his legs, trying to stop the trembling.

"It was him," Soda whispered. "It was Gregory who hurt Mia."

"What?" Darry didn't understand. Then, suddenly, visions of Mr. Crane flashed in his head, the way Mia was so subdued after the first piano lesson. What had been attributed to bullying was really due to abuse.

His mind then realed back to months ago when Mia had wanted to quit piano. She had tried to tell him. But Darry didn't listen. He was too stubborn, not patient enough. He should have known, though. Mia just wasn't the type to quit. He thought of the time Mia was in first grade and sat at the kitchen table for hours just to perfect her penmanship. Or the time in third grade when she practiced spelling words for the spelling bee for months and months until she could spell any word in the dictionary. Again, he was reminded how his father would have handled the situation better.

"Mia," he would have said. "You loved piano just fine yesterday. What happened?"

Mia might have shrugged, offering no insight. On the other hand, she might have said everything.

He considered Soda's words, but discounted them as he sized his brother up. The blood yelled over everything else.

"Are you hurt?" Darry asked, but even as he said it, he couldn't see a central focal point, a single point where the blood could have come from. Rather, it looked like he had been splattered with blood.

"No." Soda shook his head, his voice little more than a whisper. He opened his mouth to explain further, but Detective Conway came up.

"Darrel Curtis, good to see you again." The detective shook Darry's hand. "We should speak in an interrogation room."

Darry gulped. Interrogation rooms were the places the criminals went in mystery movies. Happy things didn't happen in interrogation rooms. All the same, he held his chin high, following Soda and Detective Conway into the tiny clausterphobic room with the little mirror in the door.

"Take a seat," Detective Conway said pleasantly, nonchalantly, taking a seat himself.

Soda, who was visibly calming down, took his seat. Darry followed suit, although he could feel his heart rate increase, his blood pressure rising.

"Is everything all right?" Darry asked uneasily, looking from Soda to Detective Conway.

Detective Conway took his time answering, picking at his tie, fidgeting in his seat before turning to Darry with a crooked smile.

"Well, it really depends on your version of all right." Detective Conway attempted to laugh, but he saw no one was amused by his lame. He stopped smiling and cleared his throat before speaking again. "The good news is, we found the person who hurt Amelia."

Darry nodded, remembering Soda's words. A picture of Gregory Crane popped into his mind, and immediately he felt rage and anger pulsing through his body.

"Soda told me." His voice was calm, but hatred sat underneath the facade.

"What else did Soda tell you?" Detective Conway looked towards Darry with an expectant look.

Darry shrugged.

"Not much," he confessed. Darry turned to his brother, but the younger boy didn't offer any insight. "Where is the bastard, anyway?" Darry's hands clenched to his sides in a menancing way.

"The city morgue," Detective Conway replied calmly.

All of a sudden, Darry saw the blood covering Soda's body in a whole new way and he thought he was going to puke.

"Soda," he muttered, burying his head in his hands. "Please, tell me you didn't, Soda."

Soda didn't look Darry in the eye; he simply looked to the ground, his eyes unfocused. Darry took this as an affirmative action.

"Don't be upset," Detective Conway piped up.

"Yeah, Darry," Soda breathed. "He was attacking Mia. He had a knife on her and blood was going everywhere and I just...I dunno, snapped."

Mia. He had seen Soda and all the blood and Mia had just totally left his mind. But now that he heard those words, fear paralyzed his body.

"Is she..." Darry couldn't even complete his sentence.

"She's perfectly fine," Detective Conway explained. "She received five stitches on her chest. She's now in protective custody of the state."

The immediate fear dissipated for half a second before returning with a sickening realization.

"Protective custody?" Darry sputtered, his mind reeling at the words. He knew what this meant.

"Yes," Detective Conway replied with a slight nod of his head. "It's standard procedure in situations like these. Please, listen to the rest of the story."

Darry nodded, swallowing, trying to clear his throat.

"Anyway," Detective Conway continued. "Your brother came home from work early to see the man you knew as Mr. Gregory Crane standing over your sister, Amelia, with a knife in his hand, in the beginning stages of stabbing her with what we believed was an intent to kill. Soda reacted with swift reflexes after Mr. Crane attacked him, saving his life as well as his sister's."

"Well, " Soda said, "that's not exactly what happened." Mr. Crane hadn't exactly attacked him. Detective Conway, though seemed not to hear him.

"When we arrived at the scene," said Detective Conway said, "we found a body, an injured child and your brother splattered with blood. When he said exactly what Gregory Crane did to your brother, we started to look through open child molestation cases. Usually, if a person sexually abuses a child, he either is a repeat offender or will become a repeat offender." Detective Conway cleared his throat before continuing. "We found the case of Jeffery Gunthrie, a fugitive wanted in the state of Texas. The fingerprints matched those of Gregory Crane."

"What did Jeffery Gunthrie do exactly?" Darry asked, his voice small, scared.

"A real horrific story." Detective Conway shook his head. "He kidnapped his own sister, brought her to a little shack right outside of Denton. He brutally and repeatedly raped her. He kept her captive there for a few months.

"Anyway, she escaped, ran away to a nearby farm, where an elderly couple let her into their home. But she was so hysterical, she couldn't the words out. Gunthrie came around to collect her. By the time the couple decided something was wrong with the child, they were pulling her body of a half frozen lake. Gunthrie had strangled her and dumped her body into the lake to make it look like an accident."

Darry recalled the day Gregory Crane had opened up about his sister. Gregory's own tale with hardship, how he so empathized with taking care of his little sibling, made Darry closer to him. He didn't realize what a sick fuck he really was.

"What about Soda?" Darry asked, turning to his brother. The boy with the honey colored hair, the wide grin, the beautiful brown eyes, the boy who got high off of life and loved everything about the world, he wasn't a murderer. He imagined him for a moment in a prison jumpsuit, behind bars, frying in the electric chair. "What's going to happen to him?"

"I'd recommend a shower," Detective Conway laughed hesitantly, but stopped when he saw Darry's serious face. "As far as charges, there will be one. Soda acted in pure self defense."

Darry felt only slightly relieved at the words. But what about Mia, though? He vocalized his concerns.

"Mr. Curtis," Detective Conway replied, suddenly serious. "No matter what way we look at this, this is abuse. Now, we have probable cause to suspect that Jeffery Gunthrie is responsible. But everything has to be processed. You not being her natural parent and you being a young man... well, I know you didn't do it, but this is standard protocol put in place to protect girls like Mia who might not be as fortunate to have three such protective older brothers."

"What are you saying?" Darry asked, fighting back tears. "When can Mia come home?"

"I don't know, Mr. Curtis. I just can't tell you that at this moment in time."

XXX

Ponyboy walked home from school, truding through the cold November day. The sky was a stealy gray and the teenager wrapped his jacket around himself as tight as he could. He wished for a sparse moment that he had a thicker pair of gloves, ones that were more intact with less holes. And a decent scarf would probably work wonders against the chills coarsing down his back.

A wet, cold something hit Pony on the nose and he looked up to see the fluffy white snow flakes floating down from the sky. He shivered again, looking forward to a piece of chocolate cake and a large mug of hot cocoa. It would be a pleasant afternoon, he decided. After all, Mia was home.

Mia. At the thought of his little sister, his stomach began to ache. How could he have such commonplace thoughts when something so terrible had happened to his sister?

All thoughts stopped when he descended upon his street. Cop cars, at least half a dozen, plus unmarked cop cars, surrounded his house. He couldn't even begin to think of what might have happened.

As quickly as his legs would take him, as slowly as his mind would allow, he reached his house, which swarmed with police officers. It reminded him of how ants swarmed discarded bits of food. It made him sick.

He tried to get through the thick cluster of uniformed officers, trying in vain to find the door. He was almost there, too, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and was met with a familiar face.

"Ponyboy?" Detective Richardson asked. "I've been looking for you. Come with me please."

Still clutching his shoulder, the Detective led the young teenager to an unmarked police car. Pony half expected to be thrust into the back of the car like a common criminal, but instead, Detective Richardson opened the door to the passenger's seat. Pony sat shotgun, and Detective Richardson began to drive, taking the car far away from the Curtis house, from the carnage Pony had not been able to see.

"What's going on?" Pony asked after they had been driving for a couple minutes. The anxiety continued to eat his insides.

"There was an accident," Detective Richardson replied.

Immediately, Pony began to think of Darry, of Soda, of Mia. Panic began to sit in. What if something happened to them?

"What kind of accident?" Pony's voice was thick as a lump rose to his throat.

"There was an intruder who broke and entered your home. Soda acted in self defense and accidentally killed the man."

Pony breathed a sigh of relief before a thought struck him: Soda didn't kill people. It just wasn't part of his make up.

"What?" Pony asked in confusion. Surely he had not heard right.

"There was an intruder in the house who apparently had a weapon and was attacking your sister, Amelia. So your brother saved your sister's life by pulling the attacker off of her. He accidentally killed him in the process. A perfect accident."

Attacker. Pony thought the word to himself. Could this "attacker" be the same person who had hurt Mia before?

"Where are you taking me?" Pony asked. He simply couldn't process the information being thrown at him at the moment. He needed something simpler, something basic, to bring his head back to reality.

"The Tulsa County Children's Home," responded Detective Richardson replied.

Pony's head swam. He leaned his head against the cool, car window, letting the shaking of the car rattle his brain.

XXX

Mia sat on the top bunk in the very back of a large room filled with double decker beds. She felt small and hopeless, more than she had ever felt in her entire life. She was completely alone as far as she could tell; the room was such a vast size that someone could have been sitting quietly on the other size and neither would ever know of the other's presence.

The events of the day kept playing through her head: how Mr. Crane came into the house, how her own death loomed ahead of her, an inevitabilty she could not control, as the knife was pressed to her flesh, the cold metal cutting sharply through.

Then, Soda burst in. She had been so ashamed for a minute when she saw her brother. All she could think about was that he knew her secret, her dirty, shameful secret. She saw the anger on his face, the way he trudged up to the two of them, and Mia just knew that he hated her.

She had been surprised when Soda grabbed Mr. Crane, beating the man, then stabbing him, killing him with the knife. She felt a strange satisfaction knowing that the man was dead, an even more shameful happiness swelling in her chest.

She barely comprehended Soda calling the police. The next thing she knew, her brother sat besides her, whispering in her ear, asking if she was all right. She hadn't noticed the blood blossoming from her chest. She couldn't feel anything for the shock was so great.

The rest was a blur. Soda was arrested. Mia was taken back to the hospital, given stitches, pain medication. And before she knew it, she was lying down on a bunk, a matronly woman telling her to get some rest before supper, it was at six sharp.

What time was it any?

It was half past five. Mia felt her stomach flip. At this time of the day, she was sitting down to dinner with her brothers. But that was before they knew about... about what Mr. Crane did to her.

For a moment, Mia was happy she was lying at the Tulsa County Children's Home, not at home where she would have to face her brothers, who had the knowledge of the extremely shameful thing that had happened to her.

She shook her head. Even if they knew every detail about everything, she didn't want to stay here. The other kids, they were either so tough. They spat and pushed the others down. Or they were so fragile and timid, anything set them off.

Mia hated it because she looked like she belonged here, among the abused children, the neglected children, the juvenile deliquents, the orphans. She had a loving family, even if her parents were dead.

She fell into a restless, painful sleep, longing for her brothers, wishing that just one of them could be there with her.

XXX

"Can I see her now?" Ponyboy asked. It was after a meager supper of a grayish-brownish substance they called stew. They had told him from the very beginning that Mia was there, lying down in the girls' room. But they wouldn't let him see her.

"She's asleep," replied a matronly woman. Pony was told her name at one point time, but he didn't feel as if she were important enough to remember her title.

"Can't we wake her up?" He knew all she had been through, and how tired she must be. But, he rationalized, her joy of seeing him would out way any other feelings.

"Oh, no," the woman smiled wickedly. "She didn't even wake up for supper. And if a child doesn't wake up for food, then they won't wake up for anything. Believe me, I know children."

Pony felt like socking her in the face. She didn't know Mia.

They were standing in a big room that resembled a ward of a psychiatric ward. It was called the common room, a place where the kids were herded after dinner, but before bed. The matronly woman moved on, making Pony feel even more hopeless.

After sitting in the room for a few hours, he finally retired to the large boys' room, but he couldn't sleep. He kept thinking of Mia in the next room, scared, lonely, afraid.

XXX

Darry and Soda had the worst night of their lives. They couldn't go home; cleaning people were at the house, erasing the splattered traces of Mr. Crane. They could back tomorrow, they were told, but they had to find somewhere to place themselves in the meantime. Darry found a cheap motel.

That's where the two brothers slept, their arms thrown over one another as they dreamt of their younger siblings all night long.

XXX

Darry woke with a start very early the next morning when he heard loud knocks on the door. Soda didn't stir as Darry sat up, clad in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He walked to the door, throwing it open to reveal Detective Conway.

"Mr. Curtis," Detective Conway greeted. "We checked everything out. It's okay for you to collect your siblings. Your home is habitable again as well."

Darry closed his eyes in relief. All night long, he had been dreading getting the call, saying that he would never be able to his siblings again.

"I would suggest you go early," Detective Conway added. "They're not too keen on giving children back. Better get there before they change their minds."

Darry nodded, closed the door, and shook Soda awake. In less than ten minutes, they were on their way to the children's home.

XXX

Mia saw Ponyboy when she woke early, tired from all the sleep. She stumbled into the dining hall and there was Ponyboy, pushing around Cherios in a bowl of yellow milk. She ran to him in surprise and delight.

"Mia," Pony whispered as they embraced.

They sat close together, their arms hooked their one another's when the matronly woman approached them.

"You have visitors," she said curtly.

Mia and Pony followed the woman to the front of the building. There stood Soda and Darry.

All four siblings ran to each other, throwing their arms around each other in a group hug. Gosh, they had all been through so much. But here they stood, alive, healthy, in spite of everything.

And really, that's all that mattered.


	13. Epilogue

The beautiful young woman sat on her bed cross legged, her long, reddish brown hair tossed clandestinely over her shoulders, sitting in loose waves across her back. She had a pen clutched in one hand as she pensively considered the piece of paper in front of her. Thus far, she had written ten pages of her essay, titled _The Chronicles of Amelia Curtis_. Nominated for the prestigious honor of Student of the Year, an award based off academic standing, she was required to write a paper to further prove her worthiness. This year's theme went something like this : In a clear and concise essay, discuss how hardships in your life have turned into positive experiences and/or discuss how they contributed to the person you are today.

Amelia had nearly laughed when she read the theme. While her competitors sat with their heads in their hands, contemplating the day they lost their pet rabbits or when their fathers announced that no, they would no be receiving that corvette for their sixteenth birthdays, Amelia remembered everything thus far in her life. She remembered when her parents died, the subsequent year with her great aunt and uncle.

She even remembered seventh grade. And with a sickening clarity, she remembered Mr. Crane.

She went out of her way to avoid thinking of Mr. Crane. Whenever that man popped into her mind, the memories overcame her, swept her under, and she relieved them again and again until something or someone interrupted them. She had spent five whole years not thinking about the man. But suddenly, in her senior year of high school, all she could think about was him.

And it was odd, Amelia considered. One day, Mr. Crane was the most shameful thing to think about. And then the next, the very thought made her angry. But now, all she felt was pity. Not pity for herself, however. She pitied Mr. Crane and all his patheticness. After all, she thought, here she was, beautiful in spite of everything that had happened to her, with several colleges looking at her, at least two offering major sholarships. She was going to be a doctor or an engineer or a physicist and Mr. Crane was dead.

She put her pen down her paper and continued writing.

XXX

Darry sat in his easy chair in the living room, the evening paper opened to the sports page. It was later in the evening, after dinner and the house was so quiet, you could hear the mouses scurrying in the corner. For a moment, Darry reminisced about the days of his younger self, after his parents died, but when Johnny and Dallas were still alive. Ponyboy and Soda still lived at home then. There had never been a quiet moment with seven boys in and out of the house.

He smiled for a minute before his mouth formed a pensive frown. At the age of twenty-six, many still considered him a young man. But he felt anything but. It surprised him when he looked into the mirror and he saw a smooth face, not an old one filled with a lifetime of worry lines. He had seen and been through things that even old men had not seen.

With an ach, he suddenly thought of Mia, who sat in her room, probably working on homework or reading a book too complicated for him. If there was anyone who had been through a lot, it was that little girl.

_Little girl. _Darry mused over those words. She certainly wasn't a little girl anymore. Almost over night, she had suddenly morfed into absolutely beautiful young woman of seventeen.

Darry tried to remember the moment he had looked at Mia and saw a woman versus a child. She hit her growth spurt in ninth grade, but the roundess of her face didn't completely evaporate until her fifteenth birthday.

Darry supposed Mia's maturity really struck him last May when she went to the junior prom. He remembered for a moment how he sat in the living room with Mia's date, a shy brainy kid of the name of Thomas. Darry asked the poor boy about school, grades, his "intentions" for the evening.

In the midst of the you-better-not-harm-a-hair-on-her-head harangue, Mia came into the room and both men audibly gasped. She wore a shimmering green gown, her hair piled on top of her head with ringlets spilling down, framing her face. The dress was borrowed, but the diamond necklace that lay sparkling across her sharp bones belonged to her mother.

"You look like a princess," Darry said as he stood up, kissing her on the forehead, careful not to muss anything up.

Thomas sputtered a greeting, hooked his arm through Mia's. Together, the two teens walked to the door, Darry shouting after them "curfew is midnight, no later!" Thomas had Mia back by half past eleven.

Mia had a nearly seemless transition from childhood to adolescence between her gentle beauty, her quiet grace, and her extreme and sharp intelligence. The only awkward time came when Darry had to give Mia the sex talk at the age of fifteen when a boy at school asked her to the movies.

"Mia," Darry had said. "There's only one thing a teenage boy wants, and I know because I was teenage boy myself once."

Mia had only nodded at the words.

"Believe me, Darry," she had whispered back. "I know more than you could ever know."

Darry gave a curt nod; he simply didn't know what else to say. That was the only time Mia had ever referenced what had happened to her with Mr. Crane.

Mia had no more dates after that until prom night with Thomas.

With a sigh, Darry heaved himself out of his easy chair, heading to the kitchen. Mia had cooked dinner and offered to do the dishes, but Darry had sent Mia to her room to finish her homework. The dishes sat in the sink, and soundlessly, Darry began to wash the dishes, scrubbing each plate rhythmically, falling back in his comfortable train of thought.

More than Mia's beauty was her intelligence. She amazed teachers year after year with her quick wit and cleverness. She won the science award in tenth grade and was announced number one in her senior class only a week ago. She said if she kept her grades up, she would graduate valedictorian. And now she was up for Student of the Year, a statewide scholarship competition.

Darry felt guilty everyday for what had happened to Mia. But the fact that she was so amazing eleviated some of the guilt. The fact that she went through hell and came back unscathed-well, that proved her strenght, her tenacity. Even though it killed him to just even think about it, sometimes he wondered if Mia would still be the person she was even if the events in her life hadn't happened.

He thought of Pony and Soda for a moment. Pony was currently attending the University of Oklahoma on a partial academic scholarship (he easily covered the rest of tuition through a work study program). Nearly a senior, he was considering med school after graduation. Pony had always been smart and Darry was absolutely sure that his youngest brother would be in a similar place even if the bad events in his life hadn't happened.

Then there was Soda, who had never been a perfect student. Even in elementary school, he had always fidgeted when told to sit still, always cracked a joke instead of answering the teacher when he didn't know the answer to a question. To Darry, it made sense that Soda went down the path he did. Maybe if their parents hadn't died, Soda might have stayed in school, got his high school diploma. But all considering, for someone who didn't finish high school and never even considered high school, he was successful enough and highly satisfied, if not down right happy, with his life.

Currently, Soda was the co-owner of his own garage, married to a beautiful woman named Molly and the proud father of a nine-month-old named Kevin. He wasn't incredibly wealthy; in fact, he had to move to rural Nebraska where the land was cheap and his craft was appreciated just to make a decent living. But he had escaped the neighborhood and his circumstances, to a place where the lines between rich and poor were blurred.

Darry dried the last dish and placed it in the cupboard. Draining the dish water from the sink, he turned off the lights and returned to the living room. After flipping on the television, he resumed his spot in his easy chair, settling in for the evening news.

After a few minutes, though, the sound of a door opening and then the soft patter of footsteps, interrupted Darry from his program. He flipped the TV off as Mia walked into the living room.

She wore a white blouse tucked into a tartan skirt that sat just below her knees accompanied with a pair of white stockings. She wore no shoes. Like Darry, Mia was quite tall. Soda and Pony and stopped growing at around six feet tall, just a couple inches shorter than Darry. Mia stood at five feet eight inches, quite easily one of the tallest girl in her class. Once she had hit her growth spurt, she had began to grow and grow. The basketball coach recruited her and she had two successful seasons on the girls' team before quitting, stating that she just simply wasn't good enough to get a basketball scholarship and should focus her energy on her studies. Darry wanted to argue, but Mia was simply too busy with everything in her life.

She stood before Darry with a composition book clutched in her hands, nervously switching her weight from foot to foot.

"Hey kiddo," Darry said, stretching out.

"Hey Darry," Mia replied, sitting down on the arm of the chair. Darry pulled her into his lap, embracing her with his arms. Mia liked it when Darry did that; it made her feel like a little girl again.

They sat like that for a few minutes, Darry rocking Mia gently before the girl began to speak again.

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

"Of course," Darry replied.

"I wrote this essay for Student of the Year and I was wondering if you could, you know, proof read it before I type it up. Just make sure it makes sense and stuff." She offered the composition book to Darry and the man took it, almost, but not quite, hesitantly.

"I'll do the best I can. Pony's better at this kind of thing than I am."

"My English teacher said he'd check for spelling and grammar, so you don't have to worry about that. I just want to make sure it flows all right."

"Okay." Darry held the composition book between his large hands as Mia kissed him on the cheek, leaping from his lap.

"Thanks." She disappeared back into her room.

Darry opened the composition book and began to read the beautiful handwriting:

_The Chronicles of Amelia Curtis _

_ I remember with clear and vivid detail the day my older brother, Sodapop, received his draft card. I had checked the mail when I got home from school, and there it was, in a benign little envelope. All three of my older brothers and I cried for a week straight. When it came time for Soda to go down to the recruting office to be officially recruited into the Army, none of us wanted to let him go. He would be there for two whole days, and then three days later, he would leave for basic training. In six weeks, he would be shipped overseas to Vietnam. _

_ After his first day at the office, my two other brothers and I sat at the dinner table, quietly stirring our food around. Nothing was the same without Soda. Near the end of the meal none of us wanted to eat, we heard the sound of the front door open and then close. Soda came loping into the kitchen, grinning for ear to ear. _

_ "Guess what?" he asked excitedly, nearly jumping up and down from excitement. _

_ We were all confused as to why he was here, why he was home early. But we eagerly asked him what the information he was so happy about was. _

_ "I have heart murmur!"_

_ At first we were all concerned before the implications of the words really set in. _

_ "Is it serious?" my eldest brother, Darry, asked. _

_ "Probably," Soda replied with a shrug. "Doc at the recruitning office said I should see a cardiologist. But I really don't care either way. It's serious enough that they won't let me into the Army." _

_ We celebrated all night long, laughing and crying with relief. Anybody else would have been devastated by the news. But the silver lining was so huge and obvious that we couldn't help but be happy. Later, Soda did see a cardiologist. It turns out, his heart murmur is caused by a slightly defective valve. The doctor said he was probably born that way. Later in life, he'll need surgery. But it won't kill him. In fact, it probably saved his life._

_ Unfortunately, not everything has such an obvious bright side. _

_ The summer I turned eleven, my parents died in a car accident. _

_ My parents went out, just the two of them, to see a play downtown. They said they'd be home quite late and not wait up for them. We all went to sleep, only for swift knocks to echoe through the house in the early hours of the morning._

_ I'm a light sleeper, so I was the only one who woke up. Through my sleepy haze, I just assumed it was parents. Thinking back on it, my rationalization made no sense. It could have been a burglar or a serial killer or anyone. I opened the door and there stood a uniformed police officer. _

_ "Hello sweetheart," said the officer, his tone gentle and low. "Are you home alone?" _

_ Confused and tired, I simply shook my head. _

_ "My brothers are here, but they're alseep." _

_ "Can you wake them up, please?" the officer asked kindly. "I'll just stand right here while you get them." _

_ I went to Darry's room and shook his shoulder. He mumbled in his sleep, but he did not wake up. _

_ "Come on, Darry," I muttered as I continued shaking his body. He opened his eyes, waking up. _

_ "What is it, Mia?" he asked as he sat up, rubbing his hair. "What's wrong?" _

_ "There's a police officer at the door. He wants to talk to you." _

_ "A police officer, huh?" Darry asked. He only wore a pair of boxers. Pulling a bathrobe over his naked chest, we walked back to the front door together. The police officer was right where I left him, on the front porch, standing in the sweet summer air. _

_ "Can I help you?" Darry asked. _

_ The police officer took his hat off his head, cluthing it in his hands as he looked Darry up and down. _

_ "Can I ask your relation to Mr. and Mrs. Curtis?" the officer asked. _

_ "They're my parents." _

_ The officer looked from Darry to me and then back to Darry. He seemed to have something caught in his throat before he began to speak again. _

_ "I'm sorry. There's been an accident. Your parents were involved." _

_ "What?" The sleep evaporated from Darry and he stood straight. "Are they all right?" _

_ "They were pronounced dead at the scene. I'm terribly sorry." _

_ As I heard the words, I felt my heart sink. I turned to Darry, who stood with his eyes wide, unmoving as he stared at nothing in particular. _

_ "Are you all right?" the police officer asked. _

_ Darry shook his head once, twice, before looking to the officer. _

_ "What did you say?" Darry breathed. "I didn't hear you." _

_ Darry stood stock still, unthinking, unfeeling. As for me, on the other hand, I could feel the tears spilling from my eyes as the hot liquid began to trickle down my cheeks. _

_ "We're going to need you to go down to the medical examiner's office to identitify the bodies." The officer put his hat back on his head. "Again, I'm terribly sorry." _

_ For me, the rest was a blur. My two oldest brothers, Darry and Soda went to identitify the bodies while my brother Ponyboy stayed with me. I hardly remember the wake, the funeral, the burial. _

_ After my parents had been buried, my great aunt, Margaret, took me to live with her and her husband. I lived with them for a year, and it was easily the hardest year of my life. I missed by brothers terribly. Finally, Aunt Margaret agreed to let me come home. I arrived just in time for the start of seventh grade. _

_ That's when I met Mr. Gregory Crane, my piano teacher. He was also the man who brutally and repeatedly raped me. _

Darry stopped reading when he came to the part about Mr. Crane. In the last five years, Mia never even mentioned the man's name. Following Dr. Gabriel's advice, he allowed Mia to heal from her physical injuries, both internal and external, before persuing treatment for the emotional amd mentail turmoil Mr. Crane had left in his wake. She began seeing Dr. Simmons, a child and adolescent psychiatrist, once a week. Once a month, Darry sat and down and had a conversation with the doctor.

"She absolutely won't talk about what Mr. Crane did to her," Dr. Simmons had said with a shake of his head. "She'll talk about the death of her parents and the year she spent with her great aunt and uncle, but she'll stay clear of seventh grade all together. She'll even adamantly deny that anything happened."

In ninth grade, Mia had an especially hard time. Unfortunately Mia experienced the chronic abdominal pain that Dr. Gabriel had warned about. When she finally hit adolescence, the pain became even more intense, unbearable even. For about one week a month, she couldn't even function due to the pain. She stayed home in bed and whimpered in agony.

It was right around then that Dr. Gabriel suggested the hysterectomy. Mia hadn't been keen on the idea, but she was in so much pain, she felt as if she didn't have much choice. They waited until Winter Break to have the surgery so Mia wouldn't have to miss school recovering.

The week leading up to the surgery and then for about a month afterwards, Mia was so listless and quiet. Darry was so worried that she would starve to death. But she got back into the swing of things after a while and pretty soon she put it behind her like everything else. The only thing that was left from the whole experience was a scar on her belly that sat so low that even a bikini wouldn't reveal it.

Eventually, Dr. Simmons told Darry that Mia was a well adjusted, intelligent young lady and that there was really nothing more he could for her if she didn't decide to talk herself. They reduced office visits to once a month. Eventually they dwindled down about every six weeks. Mia still went because Darry forced her to go, but she hated it. To her, it was just a constant reminder of the past.

Darry looked back to the essay and continued reading. He learned details that he had never known before. It made him sick. He felt tears come to his eyes, and his vision began to blur some much that he could barely read the last paragraphs.

_I hated myself after what Mr. Crane did to me. I wanted nothing more than to die. I kept on thinking to myself how it was my fault what happened to me. I felt so ashamed and just knew that my older brothers absolutely hated me. I could hardly look them in the eyes. _

_ Finally, I began to heal both emotionally and mentally from the experience. I excelled in school. I rose to the top of my class. The only lasting effects Mr. Crane has left are my inability to have children and my hatred and fear of piano. _

_ I can't tell you for sure that I'm a better person for what happened to me, but I do know that I am stronger._

Darry flipped the page, but the there was no more. Tears still sliding down his face, he closed the composition book. He got up from his easy chair and walked to Mia's room. He knocked on the closed door.

"Come in," came Mia's voice.

Darry opened the door and there sat his perfect, beautiful sister sat, curled on her bed, a copy of _Lord of the Rings _clutched in her hands.

"Mia," Darry breathed through his tears. "I read your essay."

Mia looked to her eldest brother and patted the side of her bed. Darry sat besides her, pulling her into a hug. The action said so much.

"I'm so sorry, Mia," Darry cried as he held his sister.

They sat still and quiet for a moment.

"Darry?" Mia asked after several minutes. "I think I'm ready to talk now."

And Mia began to detail the year she was twelve and everything Mr. Crane did to her. The shame left Mia and the guilt left Darry. They were finally healed, both of them, relieved of the burdens they had both been carrying around.

**I would like to thank you, my readers, for sticking with the story and reading it all the way through. I highly enjoyed writing this story and I hope you enjoyed it. As always, reviews are highly appreciated!**


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